The Value of Sacrifice  Part I
by Face of Poe
Summary: conclusion of AU series featuring Leyla Solo-Fel- On the eve of Kyp Durron's wedding, Cem Fel disappears; his family suspects a Chiss-plot, but what is the connection to the sudden unrest in the GA, where systems are seceding for no apparent reason?
1. Part I Prologue

**A/N: **At last! The final installment of my absurdly large AU (for details/stories/story order, see my profile)! A couple of housekeeping notes:

This story is divided into 2 parts. This is the prologue of part 1, which is completed. Part 2 is… about halfway done. Getting there. I hope to have it completed by the time this part (16 chapters + prologue) is entirely posted. It's going to be a long one though- part 1 is just shy of 50,000 words and part 2 is already pushing 30. So buckle in for a crazy ride.

Secondly- I'll be posting a 'Guide to OCs' after the prologue. This is for any readers who either a) came late into the series and perhaps missed some of the earlier stories (or just need an OC refresher) or b) for readers who are intrigued by the onset here but don't want to go read a bunch of other stories to understand this one. Just know that there is a lot of reference to prior stories and old characters, and this story is, I think, less forgiving to the newcomer reader than the others have been.

But I, of course, hope you'll try it out. ;-)

Chapter 1 will be posted in about a week, to give anyone time to check out earlier stories if they so desire. :-) After that, expect an update every 2 days.

**Setting: **46-47 ABY, with flashbacks as far back as 27 BBY.

**Characters**: Pretty much everyone from this AU (even some dead ones are marginally relevant)

**Rating: **T – occasional innuendo, violence, swearing, etc

**Note**- pay close attention whenever a date is given for a section- this means there is a shift in the setting of the story timeline and you're reading a past-scene. Also note the dates given in the prologue- none of them are in the 46/47 ABY time frame of the rest of the story.

**Disclaimer:** Recognizable characters, terms, etc are the property of Lucasfilms, LTD- I am just playing with the creations of others for my own sick amusement. ;-)

X-X

_It was like waking from the longest sleep… the longest sleep, filled with decades' worth of dreams- but those dreams weren't dreams at all, they were… memories._

_Memories…_

_Whose memories? _

_There was a sensation, like he'd forgotten something vitally important. Something he'd done? Something he was supposed to do? _

_Something he was? _

X-X

**The Value of Sacrifice**

**Part One**

_"You cannot be so insulated against rumor and gossip as this- why do you think he directed his comments towards Kyp Durron? Leyla is a Fel in name only, not blood… and by admitting the truth of the matter, it will guarantee that the Chiss never give a second thought to Leyla again."_

**-**Luke Skywalker to Cal Omas and Kenth Hamner- _New Beginnings_

X-X

_Her hands stilled at the controls of the small, lightly-armed cargo ship; drawing a deep breath, she raised her eyes to the viewport and stared at the scene before her. _

_The kilometer-long, needle-like Star Destroyer hovered ominously a hundred kilometers ahead; its launch bays sat inactive, though she had little doubt that the complement starfighter squadrons sat ready to launch, should it prove necessary. She didn't think it would be necessary. _

_They probably didn't either, given the four assault cruisers and accompanying Clawcraft which were mirroring her ship's movements rather effectively. She came around slightly- the cruisers and Clawcraft matched the slight maneuver with clinical precision- and stared at the blue-grey icy world beyond the other ships. _

_She had been born on Csilla, had spent the first year and a half of her life there, had been back to it a dozen times before the age of eleven, before circumstances forced the Fels to abandon the Ascendancy for good. Somehow, that fact- the fact that _this _was her home world in a way that Coruscant could never be- was ironically fitting._

_And as she fought to calm herself, to find that inner peace, it occurred to Leyla that it was strangely poetic, when all was said, that she should meet her end at the hands of the Chiss after all. _

X-X

**Prologue**

_27 BBY – Csaus – Chiss Ascendancy_

"Destroy it."

"Mitth'raw'nuruodo…"

He slammed a fist down on the table. "Destroy it, Syndic. The project is unstable and, more importantly, is no longer necessary. The Vagaari, if any remain alive, have buried their heads and will not be showing them again for quite some time."

"And when they _do_," Assistant Syndic Csun'abr'inrokini said steadily, "we will be ready for them; but only _if_ you allow our work here to go unhindered!"

Two pairs of glowing red eyes met each other challengingly, and Mitth'raw'nuruodo took a deep breath to calm himself from his uncharacteristic fit of passion. "Syndic," he murmured lowly, "your attempts at isolating and eliminating the mutating effects of the pathogen have failed- need I remind you of the havoc you will wreak if it jumps to another species in the region? Whole biospheres could be ruined in moments."

His tone held a quiet warning, but the other held his ground firmly. "And you have just told me that the Vagaari will give my scientists plenty of time to perfect the product." Mitth'raw'nuruodo worked his jaw angrily a moment before turning heel; he only made it three steps, however, before Csun'abr'inrokini stopped him. "What of the Far Outsiders, Commander? You once spoke of tailoring this project to them as well."

Without turning, the commander, clad in his black CEDF uniform, spoke softly. "We were unable to obtain a usable sample from the Far Outsiders- you know this, Syndic."

"If they are as formidable opponents as you say, they will be back, and we will have other opportunities." He paused a moment, but the other still did not turn. "Thrawn," he adopted his informal core name as he spoke softly and seemingly changed the subject completely, "I am sorry about your brother."

Mitth'raw'nuruodo's voice was determinedly steady, but quieter. "I merely wish I had answers, Syndic Nabrin. I have faith that Thrass died an honorable death."

Csun'abr'inrokini considered pointing out that they had no way of knowing that Mitth'ras'safis was truly dead; he had simply disappeared. He kept his mouth shut on the topic, however, trusting in his somber companion's belief that, had his brother remained alive, he would have found means of getting word back. "Thrawn, your grief is understandable, but you are letting it rule your emotions. I think your grief for the loss of your brother is combining with the guilt you feel for what became of this outsiders' expeditionary party- their deaths were not your fault, Commander."

"In my pride, I underestimated the power of these Jedi beings. My pride killed them- fifty thousand of them, slaughtered for one life."

"_Not_ for one life, Mitth'raw'nuruodo!" the Syndic snapped. "The devastation that could be wrought, should the Far Outsiders be permitted to study the beings and cultures of this galaxy, is worth far more than the fifty thousand who perished at the hands of this Sidious- not _your_ hands, Thrawn- _his_." He took a deep breath and stared firmly at the younger chiss. "Is it tragic, to see so many innocent lives ended? Yes. It is against our deepest beliefs. But you know better than I that none among these Far Outsiders are innocent, and they will do all in their power to make the innocents of this galaxy suffer. And we can stop that from happening, Commander- but _only_ if you continue to uphold our pact of secrecy for this project. Because you are right about one thing- it does need to be perfected, lest it destroy unintended targets."

For a long time, Mitth'raw'nuruodo looked around the room, looked at the stacks of datacards detailing more than two years worth of work, of painstaking scientific research, conducted by the highly secretive team under the syndic's instruction.

He sighed. "Store it somewhere safe- somewhere _no one_ can ever find it, save yourself. If- _if_- the military encounters the Far Outsiders again, I will see to it that you receive any available genetic samples that are leftover. Until then, it is not worth the potential devastation, should this fall into the wrong hands."

X-X-X-X

_39 ABY – Exocron _

Talon Karrde glanced around with something akin to nervousness as he entered the mansion-like abode for the first time in twenty years, not wholly sure why he was there to begin with. But the message had urged him come, and come alone, and he'd had not the slightest clue as to the reason until little Entoo Nee had greeted him upon his arrival.

"He is dying, Master Karrde," the somber little man had informed him. "And he wishes to see you one last time."

When he'd made this journey twenty years prior, with Shada being paranoid and suspicious, and Threepio complaining every other step, he had been frightened of the wrath of a wronged man- only to find that the wrath did not exist, that Jorj Car'das was actually grateful to him for securing the remains of his organization and rebuilding it into something of which to be proud. Now, his emotions were indescribable, and he wondered what dying words a man like Jorj Car'das would have to impart on a man like Talon Karrde.

Upon reaching the house, Entoo Nee bade him wait in a sitting room, before going off to see if his friend and master was ready to accept the visitor. He was back not two minutes later, and Karrde followed him around the expansive estate to the master bedroom.

Entoo Nee tapped twice, softly, and the door swung open to admit them. Karrde took two steps in the room, passing the small man who stepped off to the side, and then stopped short upon realizing that Car'das already had a visitor- a cloaked figure, hood drawn over his head, but one hand gripping that of the dying man in the bed. When Car'das' eyes lit upon Karrde and the cloaked figure turned, he couldn't stop the reflex to reach for his blaster-

-which had been smoothly slid from its holster by Entoo Nee, who looked mildly apologetic as he backed towards the door with it.

"Talon," Car'das called out, voice surprisingly even despite his weakened state, "please- allow me to explain."

X-X-X-X

_43 ABY – Mid Rim – Near Kril'dor_

The disorientation that Zekk felt as he was prematurely pulled from a trance during the jump between Dorin and Kril'dor lasted for about half a second; it was then replaced with mild alarm at the realization that an interdictor cruiser sat in the middle of deep space, light years from anything of importance. There was a slight measure of relief though as he visually confirmed the presence of Tahlia's StealthX a kilometer off his starboard wing, intact and unharmed.

_Pirates with an interdictor_? he thought wryly, trying to get a meaningful reading from the 600-meter-long ship.

His partner and girlfriend of some nine years seemed skeptical, and, getting a general read on her own thoughts through their strong bond, Zekk had to concur that a pirate gang that not only had an interdictor cruiser, but also had the manpower to crew it, would have garnered attention from the Galactic Alliance long before now. Yet the message they had received from Talon Karrde- who was surprisingly well-informed of their whereabouts on Dorin- suggested that this was a relatively recent problem that was nevertheless wreaking havoc on Kril'dor's Tibanna industry.

Tahlia began a swooping flank of the cruiser and Zekk followed as his astromech continued pulling readings on the size of the projected gravity well. "Bex," he murmured to his droid, "where's the bridge on that thing?" A twiddling response drew a frown of consternation. "What do you mean you don't know? It's a Sienar ship, surely you have those design logs?"

But a quick burst of realization from Tahlia answered his question moments before Bex could, and Zekk gave the cruiser a bit more attention. Sure enough, the main bulk of the ship was a traditional design, updated but originating before even the rise of the Empire. There were further modifications on this particular vessel though- it was smoother, sleeker… and had the tactical benefit of a concealed bridge, located discreetly within the main frame of the ship, rather than perched jauntily on top.

There was only one military Zekk knew of that took and modified older ship designs in such a way, but it was wholly inconceivable that this was a Chiss cruiser; they were near Ascendancy space, but not in it, and for the CEDF to send a vessel outside their own borders and into those of the Galactic Alliance would go against every basic tenet of its military philosophy.

Nevertheless…

"Let's get out of here," Zekk muttered aloud to no one, but felt Tahlia's sentiments mirror his own through their connection. "Before they realize they actually snagged something out-"

The jolting of his ship cut him off mid-sentence, and it was another few seconds before he accepted the impossible fact that the cruiser had them in a tractor beam. Their matte-black ships, all-but invisible to the naked eye even from nearby, their stealth technology, their sensor invisibility… for the cruiser to have them in a tractor-lock meant that not only did they know precisely _where_ they would be… but _when_ they would be there.

"It seems," Zekk murmured into the deathly silence of his cockpit, "that we have been betrayed."

X-X-X-X

**A/N: **To avert avoidable confusion- the first prologue scene is heavily based in _Outbound Flight_; the second in _Vision of the Future_; and the third, from a brief section of mine and **Future ADA**'s collaborative fic in this AU (set immediately before this one, in 43 ABY- listed under HER profile, not mine) _Of Nexus and Nobles_.

Again, OC guide will go up shortly (as 'chapter 2'), chapter 1 will be posted next Tuesday (11/29). In the meantime, thanks for checking out, and a happy Thanksgiving to all you Americans out there.

Cheers,

*~Lexi~*


	2. OCguide

**Essential Guide to Existing OCs**

[**Name** (_Story of origin_) (birth or death dates given where relevant)]

**Leyla Solo-Fel** (_Betrayal, Forgiveness, Redemption_)- b. 27 ABY as Leyla Solo, she is the biological child of Jaina Solo and Kyp Durron; due to Kyp's delusionary fall to darkness during the Yuuzhan Vong war, she was hidden from him by Jaina with the help of Jagged Fel. At the war's end in 29 ABY, Leyla was revealed to Kyp shortly before Jaina and Jag married- Kyp chose to keep her true paternity a secret until she was old enough to understand why she had grown up not knowing him in the first place. Jaina and Jag moved with Leyla to Coruscant, where Jag took up a role as a diplomatic envoy between the Chiss Ascendancy and the Galactic Alliance.

In 34 ABY, Leyla was kidnapped by an organization born of Palpatine's machinations known as Red Hand. Organized by Moff Yarden Morgny originally, it was taken over by Moff Qadrik Croyel upon his assassination of Morgny. Palpatine's initial scheme of creating a group of Force-trained (non-Jedi, non-Sith) apprentices who would seize control of the Empire should he meet his demise went unfulfilled with the chaos of the unexpected death of Vader as well. Thirty years later, the organization remained secret and expanded into a galaxy-wide network of spies and informants who prepared to destroy the new order. Red Hand met its demise at the hands of Kyp Durron, who infiltrated it in order to locate his lost daughter and Jacen Solo, who, with the help of Zakarisz Ghent, uncovered the names of dozens of supporters. Following these events, Leyla learned that Kyp was her true father.

In 38 ABY, shortly after Leyla began her training on Ossus, the Jedi received word that Jagged and Soontir Fel, as well as Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano, met an untimely demise aboard Soontir's Corellian Corvette due to an accident during a routine tour of the outer territories of the Ascendancy. Jaina was one month pregnant at the time. Suspecting the 'accident' to have truly been an assassination, she and Kyp relocated to Ossus with Leyla to create the illusion that Kyp was her baby's father, while Kyp worked to slow the fetus's growth, eliminating the possibility that Jag could be the father. Nine months later in 39 ABY, Jag, Soontir, and Formbi were rescued by Jedi Zekk and Tahlia, Jag's aide and guard Ashik, and the Fel family's shadow-child, Cem.

In 43 ABY, during her apprenticeship with her father and while in the Corellian system with the Fourth Fleet, Leyla was abducted with the use of coma gas and smuggled to the planet through the scheming of Moff Qadrik Croyel who sought revenge for Kyp's actions against Red Hand and his own subsequent imprisonment. She was rescued by Vulcor and Ashik with the assistance of Iella and Wedge Antilles and Soontir and Syal Fel. Croyel was killed in the process, and his revenge went unfulfilled.

Leyla was Knighted in early 45 ABY at the age of eighteen.

**Naviin Fel** (_New Beginnings_)- b. 39 ABY, Naviin is the son of Jaina Solo-Fel and Jagged Fel.

**Gennevi Lassiter** (_Reciprocity_)- b. 1 ABY, Gennevi enlisted in the New Republic Navy at the age of eighteen and was commissioned at the age of twenty-four in the months preceding the Yuuzhan Vong invasion. By 27 ABY, she commanded her own squadron. Through 43 ABY, she continued to recruit, train, and command squadrons where necessary, and was assigned to the Fourth Fleet aboard Admiral Gavin Darklighter's _Trucemaker _flagship to train the new Trinity squadron. Six months into the squadron's formation, Kyp Durron and Leyla Solo-Fel spent a month informally attached to the squadron so Leyla could gain experience in starfighter combat.

During this time, Gennevi and Kyp developed a mutual romantic interest, though he resisted becoming involved with her for fear of the reminder of his former dark ways, when he had obsessed over Jaina Solo. After the near-death of Leyla, Kyp gave in and explained to her his past and the circumstances that had led to Leyla's conception, and his current relationship with her mother.

At this same time, Gennevi suffered internal ocular trauma while flying too close to the imploding Centerpoint Station; she agreed to spend her month of medical leave on Ossus with Kyp while Leyla was recovering, and during this time agreed that they would fulfill their duties to the Fleet and the Jedi respectively, and once Leyla's apprenticeship ended, Gennevi would resign her commission and she and Kyp would begin a relationship.

**Keldon Lassiter** (_Reciprocity_)- b. 1 BBY, unnamed in earlier stories, Keldon is Gennevi Lassiter's older brother. Since at least 18 ABY, he has worked for the Kuat Drive Yards and now serves as an assistant director of operations.

**Vulcor** (_Against All Odds_)- b. 15 ABY, Vulcor was one of the apprentices of Red Hand. While Leyla was held captive by them, Vulcor was assigned her caretaker and the two developed an unlikely friendship, despite the circumstances and their differences in age. When Kyp came to take Leyla away, Vulcor assisted their escape and was nearly killed by Wrynn for the failure. When Kyp returned to finish things, with the help of Zekk, Kenth Hamner, and Saba Sebatyne, he took Vulcor to recover with the Second Fleet, and he was offered the chance to complete his training properly on Ossus with Luke Skywalker.

In the next four years, Vulcor became a full Jedi Knight and remained on Ossus to act as a part-time instructor and as a caretaker of some of the younger students. In 43 ABY, he flew as Jaina Solo-Fel's second-in-command and wingmate to Corellia, where he recognized Moff Croyel's hand in Leyla's abduction.

**Tahlia** (_Against All Odds_)- b. 8 ABY, Tahlia was the only other surviving apprentice of Red Hand. Her hesitation in confronting Kyp led another apprentice to attempt to kill her- she was stopped and killed by Zekk. She too traveled to Ossus to spend time training among the true Jedi, but eventually left to pursue her relationship with Zekk and the two embarked upon several missions together in the ensuing years. Among these missions was the quest to discover the truth of what happened to the Fels and Formbi in 38 ABY, leading to their discovery and rescue in 39 ABY.

In 43 ABY, the two traveled to Dorin to make contact with the Force-using Baran Do Sages. Upon their departure, they detoured to the planet Kril'dor to investigate Tibanna piracy, and then dropped from all communication back to the Jedi Council. The Jedi have not heard from them once in the ensuing three years.

**Syndic Csun'abr'inrokini** (_New Beginnings_)- He was responsible for the capture and imprisonment of the Fels in his estate on the planet Csaus in 38-39 ABY. Upon the discovery of his treachery, he fled the Ascendancy and has not been heard of since.

**Ferrin Belotab** (_Against All Odds_)- During the Red Hand crisis, he served as chief of staff to GA Chief of State Cal Omas. Zakarisz Ghent discovered that his personal computer console had been used to assist in the kidnapping of Leyla Solo-Fel; upon confronting him, Jaina and Jag soon discovered that his wife was the traitor instead. She was assassinated shortly thereafter. Belotab was also present for the near-assassination of Omas and the rest of his cabinet ministers by another traitor- Jacen Solo thwarted the attack at the last minute, though the Republic Executive Building was largely destroyed in the upper levels in the process.

**Tal Nhylatich** (_New Beginnings_)- Unnamed in earlier stories, Admiral Nhylatich is a former classmate of Soontir Fel's at Carida, briefly serving with him in their first squadron assignment. Cem Fel flew under his command in the Imperial Remnant and later in the GA Third Fleet. Nhylatich is the only person in the Imperial hierarchy aware of Fel's true identity.

**Davik Antell** (_New Beginnings_)- b. 4 ABY- the pseudonym used by Cem Fel in his military service (not truly an OC).

**Syd Myntox** (_New Beginnings_)- He is the husband of Wynssa Fel and father of year-old Ashlin Myntox. He serves as a mechanic in the Imperial Home Fleet, previously in the Third Fleet alongside 'Davik Antell,' though he was unaware of their connection through Wynssa. He learned of Antell's true identity upon the presumed deaths of Soontir and Jagged Fel in 38 ABY.

**Moff Yarden Morgny** (_Against All Odds_)- d. 19 ABY, he was the original administrator of the Red Hand project. His assistant and eventual supplanter, Qadrik Croyel, murdered him in his sleep in 19 ABY shortly following the peace treaty between the New Republic and the Imperial Remnant.

**Moff Qadrik Croyel** (_Against All Odds_)- d. 43 ABY, he overtook the administration of Red Hand following the assassination of his mentor, an act schemed with the self-appointed leader of apprentices, Lord Wrynn. Together, they reformed Red Hand into an intricate network of spies and sleeper agents in strategic positions to facilitate a future takeover. After Kyp Durron uncovered the group's schemes, he spent several years in prison and, upon his release, sought vengeance against the Jedi Master. He was killed on Corellia by Leyla Solo-Fel.

**Lord Wrynn **(_Against All Odds_)- d. 34 ABY, Wrynn was among the original apprentices identified and selected by Palpatine and Moff Morgny for the Red Hand project; when Morgny had not acted to secure the remnants of the Empire and re-conquer the New Republic by 19 ABY, he colluded with Qadrik Croyel to assassinate the moff. He gave Croyel's scheme to abduct Leyla Solo-Fel the go-ahead, and planned to spend several years training the girl, believing her to be the logical co-ruler of the galaxy beside himself, given her ties to the New Republic, the Jedi, the Chiss, and the Empire. Wrynn was killed by Luke Skywalker when a Jedi strike team arrived at the Red Hand secret headquarters to assist Kyp Durron's team in destroying the organization once and for all.


	3. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Onward! From here on, expect a chapter every… 2 to 3 days I guess. Enjoy:

**Chapter 1**

_46 ABY – Coruscant _

Jag's consternation was immediately noticeable to Jaina- partly, undoubtedly, because she simply knew him so well, after nearly two decades of marriage. But his sudden disquiet was noticeable due to the sharp contrast from, not just his mood a minute prior, but to the moods of everyone else in the near vicinity. They were happy, festive… slightly inebriated, to be sure… celebratory.

Sparing a quick glance over to where her seven-year-old son Naviin was sitting and laughing with his older sister Leyla and their cousin Ben, Jaina stood and quietly excused herself from the gathering assembled in her parents' apartment, ducking from the sitting room and heading down the hallway towards the office that held the comm console. She tapped once on the door before slipping into the room. Jag shot her a startled glance before holding up a finger and turning back to murmur in low tones to his sister, Wynssa.

"Right," he responded to some unheard question, "I understand. Look, mother and father will be arriving early tomorrow before the ceremony, we'll be in touch."

"Alright," Wyn said lowly, worriedly. "Give our best to everyone… is Jaina there with you?"

Jaina slid over to the console and smiled at her sister-in-law. "I just popped in to see where Jag had run off to. How are you and Syd? And little Ashlin?"

Despite the worry etched on her features, the younger woman smiled and laughed softly. "We're all doing just fine. Ashlin though… I don't know if I've ever been so exhausted in my life."

"Learning to walk?" Jaina smirked at Wyn's wearied nod. "Yeah, you'll be chasing her around for the rest of your life, get used to it."

"Thanks," Wyn answered drily. "I'll let you get back to your party now."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Jag promised, and she nodded tightly before ending the transmission with a stilted farewell. When the screen was dark and the console on standby again, Jag leaned heavily back in the chair and let out a low sigh.

Jaina put a comforting hand on his arm and peered at him concernedly. "What's wrong? Wyn going to have another baby or something? I know how you feel about your sister, you know… being a grown and married woman and all…"

He let out a huff of laughter that lacked any real amusement. "No," he informed her shortly. "It's not that." Hesitating a moment, he glanced at the door and listened to the sounds of chatter and laughing down the hallway. "Look, I don't want to make this a thing tonight and ruin the atmosphere or whatever, but… Cem's missing."

She blinked. "_What_?"

Spreading his hands in confusion, he shook his head. "He had a two week leave that was supposed to end almost a week ago. He saw Wyn and Syd on the second or third day of it, she thinks, and then… just never turned up again. By the time it worked its way up to the admiral who knows who Cem really is, and he got in touch with Wynssa… well, that was yesterday."

"They have no idea where he might have been going…?"

Jag shook his head again. "You know that when signing out for leave, the military requires any planned trips and modes of transportation to be fully documented, in the event of just such a thing occurring. Cem apparently never gave any indication that he was journeying further than Bastion." He took a deep breath and stood. "I'll discuss the matter with my father tomorrow, he may have some insight that Wyn and I don't."

"Jag…"

He pulled her to him and kissed her lightly. "There's nothing to be done now or from here," he murmured against her. "And I don't want to put a damper on tonight for everyone."

Her look was skeptical. "You really think that Kyp is so oblivious to either of our moods?"

Despite the seriousness of the moment, a roguish grin crossed his face and he kissed her quickly once more before draping an arm about her shoulders and guiding her to the door to rejoin the party.

"Darling," he murmured in her ear, "twelve hours from now, Kyp Durron is going to be a married man. I fully expect that he's oblivious to just about _anything_ right now besides his bride-to-be."

X-X-X-X

Galactic Alliance Chief of State Ferrin Belotab stared out over the Senate District and the city beyond, from what was probably among the best vantage points in the whole district. The office he had now occupied for just over two years sat near the top of the Executive building- indeed, the whole upper structure of the building had been rebuilt twelve years ago following an attempted assassination of Cal Omas and his entire cabinet by a traitorous minister. That had been a period of much turmoil, beginning with the kidnapping of the young Fel girl, ending with a surgical strike against the secret armada of the mysterious Red Hand organization and its headquarters on the backwater world of Gree Baaker.

And, in the middle of it all, Ferrin had been forced to deal with the painful truth- that his wife was a traitor, and a kidnapper, and a murderer. Even more painful still was the fact that, moments after discovering this awful truth, his wife Trina had been gunned down before his eyes, to prevent her from talking and betraying the secrets she had long held dear- even from him… _especially_ from him.

His hands were clasped behind his back, his head bowed slightly, deep in thought. The crisis of those tumultuous days was vastly different from the turmoil that seemed to plague his administration from the start, but something about it just _felt _similar to the fiasco that had faced Cal Omas more than twelve years ago now. Perhaps he had some latent Jedi abilities, Ferrin thought wryly, that drew unconscious parallels between wholly different situations.

Latent Jedi abilities that had utterly failed to see the deception of his own wife throughout two decades of marriage.

Despite the morbidity of the thought, it was enough to make him chuckle ruefully as he half-turned at the sound of a soft tap at the door of his office. It slid open moments later, and his chief of staff stepped through looking somber and apologetic.

"Wynn," Ferrin offered a weary smile to the stiff-postured and well-groomed young man. "You're still here?" Indeed, night had fallen over the Senate District, making the view from his high-rise office suite all the more impressive, as the lights of thousands of speeders moved throughout the upper levels of Coruscant.

"Yes, sir," the man returned drily. "As you know, I eat, breathe, and sleep politics." There was a tense silence that lasted a half a minute. "The delegation from Sullust has left, then?"

"Hm," Ferrin inclined his head marginally and closed his eyes. "They were adamant… panicked, almost. Yes, we have lost Sullust."

The ensuing silence stretched on a bit longer. "And… they offered no better reason than…?"

The older man shook his head. "No; they simply offered their apologies, reiterated that the Galactic Alliance no longer suited their purposes, and withdrew. Just like Rodia…"

"And Falleen…"

"And Falleen," he agreed with a heavy sigh. A sudden noise informed Wynn Dorvan that his boss had just let his head fall against the transparisteel window with a heavy _thud_. "Wynn, where did we go wrong? Where did _I_ go wrong?"

"I don't know, sir."

Ferrin straightened and turned back to face his chief of staff with a wry smile. "I'm not sure if that admission is supposed to make me feel better, or whether it is supposed to make me fire you. Aren't you supposed to know everything?"

"Only in the realm of what is logical, I'm afraid."

"Ah, yes- I do keep forgetting that severe limitation to your omniscience, my friend."

Wynn sat heavily in a chair opposite the desk and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, peering up at his boss beneath hooded and exhausted lids. "Chief Belotab, I _did_ mention the possibility to consult with one who has been in your position before…"

"Ah," Ferrin sighed and sank down in his own seat, "of course. Not a bad idea, save the undoubted backlash to follow when the people of the Alliance begin to realize that, not only is my government bleeding star-systems left and right, but I no longer have confidence in my ability to lead the rest through this period of upheaval."

"It could be done quietly," Wynn assured him. "As it turns out, I would have the perfect opportunity tomorrow afternoon to get in a casual word…"

Ferrin frowned for a moment before he remembered the event to which his chief of staff referred. "Oh, right- the wedding in the temple. Are you sure that she would even be…?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again. "Of course. Master Durron is… how does it go again?"

Wynn chuckled. "Durron is the father of Organa Solo's granddaughter."

"Leyla Solo-Fel."

Wynn nodded. "It was quite the scandal, ever-so-briefly, some seven or eight years ago."

"Why?" Ferrin stared. "Wasn't the girl born long before Solo and Fel married?" Wynn nodded. "Then where's the scandal?"

Wynn shrugged unhelpfully. "He's a Jedi Master with a colorful past, she's the child of Han and Leia Solo and the niece of Luke Skywalker; I think that right there is enough to fuel a wide spectrum of rumor and gossip."

"If you say so." He rubbed at his eyes and attempted to stifle a yawn. "I need to sleep. Talk to Organa Solo, see what you can arrange- quietly, if possible."

X-X-X-X

A tightening in Soontir's eyes and his stony silence were more than enough to confirm for Jag that his parents had no knowledge of Cem's whereabouts or wellbeing. He shot a discreet glance over towards Jaina, who stood conversing pleasantly with Syal across the room, but her own look of frustration showed that she'd read enough of Soontir's surprise to know that the woman in front of her was about to be shocked and devastated.

"Mother," Jag murmured softly, "will you come over here a moment? I must speak with you." His tone easily informed Syal that all was not well, and her blue eyes darkened in concern. "Mother," he pulled one of her hands, wrinkled but well-manicured, into his own, "I hate to bear bad tidings- but I spoke with Wynssa yesterday and… it seems that Cem has gone missing."

His mother sucked in a sharp breath and looked quickly to Soontir, whose brow was heavily furrowed as he tried to make sense of the news. Jag continued in a voice of forced calm.

"Cem failed to report for duty six days ago following a two-week leave from the Third Fleet. Wynssa only found out yesterday when the news worked its way up the chain of command to Admiral Nhylatich. He visited with Wyn and Syd early in his leave- some three weeks ago now- and gave no indication of traveling beyond Bastion. There is no evidence that he left the planet, nor is there evidence that he is still there. His apartment on the planet appears untouched in recent months."

Soontir frowned heavily. "And you suspect foul play?"

"Don't you?" Jag asked incredulously. "For his apartment to bear no signs of his presence- clearly someone is trying to cover up something-"

"Or he was never there in the first place," his father countered quietly.

Syal stared at him. "Why would Cem deceive his sister in such a way? And he certainly isn't one to abandon his duty!"

"But where does Cem's true duty lie?" Soontir murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. "In his family, first and foremost- not in the Empire, nor in the Galactic Alliance."

"Then he would not willingly abandon it," Jag said stiltedly.

Quiet in the conversation until now, perched on the edge of a chair in the hotel suite, Jaina hesitantly interrupted the back-and-forth between father and son. "There's also the consideration of Zekk and Tahlia," she murmured quietly. "Suspected foul play or no, Cem isn't the first person to disappear without word or trace recently, and…" she swallowed hard and spoke reluctantly, "he isn't the first with a connection to the events in the Ascendancy of eight years ago to disappear."

Jag's jaw worked in angered frustration, though Jaina thought it was due more to memory of those turbulent times than to her words. "Disappearance itself aside," he said evenly, "you, Vulcor, your uncle… you've all said that you've felt no measure of extreme duress from Zekk and Tahlia."

She shrugged her shoulders uneasily. "This is the Force, Jag, not a flight manual."

"And this is my brother!"

Soontir laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "Calm yourself, Jagged. We will contact your sister and Admiral Nhylatich- and then we will attend a wedding. Afterwards, when we know more- when we know _anything_- we will give this matter our undivided attention." He reached over and clasped Syal's hand. "I will also take comfort in knowing that the rest of my family is safe- now where are my grandchildren…?"

X-X-X-X

She was forty-five years old; twenty-six of those years had been spent in the navy of first the New Republic and then the Galactic Alliance. Of those twenty-six years, she'd spent five staring death in the face with nearly every mission, sixteen had been spent commanding fighter-pilots, two had been spent in a tactical advisory role. She was smart, strategically-conscious, independent and controlled.

And most infuriatingly of all… now, in this moment… Gennevi Lassiter was nervous.

Part of the problem was, undoubtedly, that Mara Jade Skywalker and Leia Organa Solo were sharing less-than-ideal tales of their own experiences with engagements and weddings. In all fairness, Kyp had not kidnapped her and taken her to a backwater world in the effort to win her heart, and he certainly hadn't proposed in the face of likely death…

But these weren't really the mental images that a bride needed on her wedding day.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want to do something more elaborate with your hair?" Leia took a break from reminiscing about Han's roguish young ways- as opposed to his roguish old ways, Gennevi supposed- to study the blonde hair running long down Gennevi's back, gently curled but otherwise untouched. "There's so much we could do, now that you've let it grow out a little longer…"

"_Leia_," Gennevi half-turned and eyed her sternly from one eye. "I appreciate the offer- again- I really do. But getting married at my age, I think there's something to be said for simplicity."

Mara waved her excuses aside. "Honestly, _at my age_- you're not even ten years older than I was when I got married."

"Yeah, and how long did Leia have to work at it to wheedle you into an expensive dress… an elaborate hairdo…?"

"About six months," Leia answered succinctly and without hesitation.

Gennevi grinned. "Ah, see there's your problem- you've only been at it for three with me."

Leia pouted for a moment before a sly and mischievous twinkle came to her eye. "Fine, I'll concede defeat," she held up her hands in surrender and, with a suspicious nod, Gennevi turned back to the mirror and began smoothing out the front of her simple but shimmery gown. "So, Gennevi, when are you and Kyp going to start having kids?"

A long-suffering sigh was her only response.

"Kyp already has a kid," Mara pointed out reasonably. "Besides, Gennevi is going to point out that at _her_ age, simplicity is a virtue, and that children are the complete antithesis of simplicity…"

"To which _you _will immediately respond that you weren't much younger when you had Ben," Leia followed logically.

The bride-to-be shot them both a glance over her shoulder. "It's a wonder that you even need me here at all today."

"We can do the talking," Mara deadpanned, "but I don't think it would work out too well if either of us walked down that aisle in…" she peered over at the chrono, "fifty-two minutes." She leaned over close to Gennevi's ear. "By the way- I was forty-three when Ben was born…"

She ducked away before Gennevi's smack could hit home.

Despite the at-times infuriating banter, Gennevi was beyond grateful for the two older women for remaining with her while she prepared. It wasn't that she needed the emotional support, per say… she'd never been happier in her entire life… but for all that they teased her, it reminded her of a very important fact- that she was already an accepted part of the complex family dynamic into which she was marrying in all but name, given the fact that Kyp's daughter was, of course, Leia's granddaughter and Mara's great-niece.

Speaking of whom…

The door opened and slid shut quickly as Leyla Solo-Fel ducked into the room. Only a couple months shy of twenty years old, the Jedi Knight was young and pretty, and Gennevi could well imagine that she closely resembled how Leia must have looked at that age. In facial appearance, perhaps she more closely resembled her mother, but there was a certain air of tomboyishness that Jaina had never truly shaken, even in adulthood- Leyla, on the other hand, carried herself with a bit more poise, probably garnered in part through her early experiences with the chiss.

At present, however, it seemed that Leyla was just a bit too much like her mother, in her grandmother's opinion.

"Leyla!" Leia gasped, appalled, "why aren't you dressed yet?"

She blinked. "Because… oh, never mind that," she turned quickly towards the woman who was about to become her stepmother. "Gennevi, there's uh… someone here to see you."

"Well _everyone_ is going to see her in… forty-nine minutes…" Mara smirked, though her expression faltered at Leyla's seriousness. "What is it?"

But Leyla had leaned up to murmur lowly in Gennevi's ear, and the former colonel went slightly pale at her words, eyes searching her face quickly, unable to believe the truth of the report. Leyla just shrugged a bit helplessly and gestured over her shoulder towards the door. With effort, Gennevi nodded, and Leyla ushered her grandmother and great-aunt from the room.

Moments after they disappeared, a man came hesitantly into the dressing room, eyes darting about a bit wildly before settling on her face; and Gennevi bit her lip as she met the pair of bright blue eyes that were nearly identical to her own.

"Keldon, what are you doing here?"

X-X-X-X


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_44.5 ABY – Trucemaker _

When Keldon Lassiter had watched his eighteen-year-old sister Gennevi enlist in the New Republic Defense Fleet, he never expected that she'd stay in longer than her initial contractual obligation of five years. He certainly had not expected her to receive the references necessary to go through officer's basic training. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in her piloting abilities… it was just that Gennevi had never had the best appreciation for authority and chain-of-command; in fact, he had always suspected that her enlistment was more about rebellion and shirking the norms of Kuati society than any true sense of duty.

More than twenty-six years later though, as he sat in the front row of an audience that was nearly entirely comprised of former superiors, comrades, and subordinates of his sister, he was forced to reevaluate his initial skeptical reaction to her decision to enlist.

He'd always known that she could fly- their father may have been killed along with the rest of Carida when they were all of twelve and ten years old, but she had taken after his love for flying, despite the rarity with which they saw him once their parents had separated. Perhaps her enlistment had been an homage of sorts to their flight-instructor father, a father they had, in truth, lost the chance to know very well at all.

Motivations aside- and, in the grand scheme of things, irrelevant, he supposed- Gennevi was now retiring as a colonel with sixteen years of starfighter command under her belt and just over eighteen months in command operations.

The siblings had not seen one another in nearly three years, so Keldon had yet to hear the full story of her change from commanding fighter pilots to an advisory post in operations- but he had gathered enough to ascertain that she had done something… well, something stupid, possibly even went against orders in the process… and that the change in position had been the result in a roundabout way.

He trusted that he would be able to wheedle the full details from her soon. Though more than twenty years later, he never knew the full details of a reprimand she had received during her enlisted tenure, but could infer enough to know that she had gotten involved in a personal relationship with someone prohibited- an officer, probably, but not one in her own chain-of-command, or else she would have been discharged at a moment's notice, and dishonorably at that.

And as he sat there, watching the ceremony winding down, Keldon Lassiter was blissfully ignorant of the fact that the officer in question had been, at the time, the commander of the much-celebrated Rogue squadron; that, some twenty years later, Gennevi would fly directly under his command in the Fourth Fleet aboard the _Trucemaker_; that, at this very moment, the commander in question- Admiral Gavin Darklighter- was pinning Gennevi's final citation on the left breast of her uniform.

No, various moments of insubordination aside, Gennevi certainly had a long and distinguished career to look back upon with whatever she decided to do next in life. Her older brother certainly wouldn't blame her if she took some time to figure that out, after more than a quarter-century spent in military service to the New Republic and later to the Galactic Alliance. Their brief transmission from a month prior gave him the somewhat confusing impression that she planned to relocate to Coruscant, but he hoped to persuade her to spend some time on her home planet of Kuat. It wasn't that he expected she'd stay long term- there was a reason she'd left in the first place- but if nothing else, she had two nephews and a niece who hadn't seen her in far too long, the youngest of whom barely remembered his aunt.

"Colonel Lassiter," Darklighter took a step back and stood at attention, "the Galactic Alliance thanks you for your distinguished and selfless service. As someone who has flown with you in combat, commanded a squadron beside your own, and later served as your commanding officer, I can say with complete sincerity that your contributions to the military have been invaluable, and that you will be missed; and I trust that those who have flown under you would echo my sentiments."

There was a jovial chorus of 'hooah!' in the assembled crowd, and Keldon chuckled and glanced around at some of the grinning younger pilots. His eyes lingered for a moment on a young girl a few seats down in the row behind him. She was young, not much over eighteen if that, but she looked ever so vaguely familiar. A simple tan tunic contrasted sharply with the formal navy dress wear adorned by the human and rodian pilot on either side of her.

An unnoticed signal drew everyone to their feet, and Keldon forced his eyes back to front as he stood. Darklighter threw Gennevi a salute, and the rest of the crowd followed suit- those who were actually in the military, anyway- and then it was over, and his sister was no longer a commissioned officer in the Galactic Alliance Defense Fleet.

There was applause- and a few cheers among the younger, more rowdy bunch- and Gennevi exchanged a hug and a few quiet words with the admiral before turning and smiling broadly at Keldon. She came forward and hugged him tightly. "Thanks for being here today," she murmured as he released her and regarded her from arm's length. "It's been far too long. How are Sephina and the kids?"

"Good, good," he assured her. "Thiren just started school, he's five already."

Gennevi winced. "Probably doesn't remember what I look like, does he?" Keldon shrugged and smiled apologetically. His sister opened her mouth to further inquire after the children, but then paused, glancing over his shoulder, and a wide grin blossomed on her face, though she quickly controlled herself. Keldon looked around and saw a man who stood out in a long brown cloak hovering in the doorway. Gennevi beckoned him over and grinned abashedly at her brother. "Keldon, there's someone I want you to meet…"

Keldon's eyes were drawn to the lightsaber at the man's belt, and he cocked a brow as he extended a hand. "Jedi?"

"Yeah… Kyp, my brother, Keldon- Keldon, this is Jedi Master Kyp Durron."

He stiffened at the name, hesitated, the laughed uneasily as he finished shaking the other's hand. "Good one," he said drily to his sister. Her eyes widened marginally, and she looked at the Jedi Master apologetically. "You're… not joking," he frowned heavily and looked between the two, and then remembered the young girl he had seen in the row behind him. "That was the Solo girl, sitting behind me…"

Durron's lips compressed into a thin smile, though it was Gennevi who bristled. "Her name is Leyla, Keldon, and she's a Jedi Knight. Kyp and Leyla flew with my squadron for a short time, almost two years ago."

A brow rose smoothly. "Around the same time you turned over your command?"

Gennevi flushed. "Keldon, don't-"

"Hi, Gennevi," a new voice broke in brightly, "it's great to see you." Leyla Solo-Fel gave the older woman a half-hug and kissed her cheek lightly. Without skipping a beat, she turned to her father. "Dad, Admiral Darklighter was wondering if you'd like to watch me beat him in dejarik. Personally, I think he just wants someone who will be able to tell if I'm cheating, but…" she grinned, and only the slightest tightness around her eyes betrayed her true purpose in asking- stopping a scene before it started.

The Master smiled gratefully down at his daughter. "Sure thing. Gennevi," he nodded to her, "I'll see you later?"

"Of course," she murmured, eyes trailing after the two as they strolled away and met Darklighter at the door. Whether or not there was truly a dejarik game planned between the admiral and the soon-to-be-knighted Jedi, Gennevi did not know, but her now-former commander betrayed no sign of confusion as the two Jedi strolled casually out with him. Once they were gone, she turned stoically back towards her brother. "Keldon…"

"Kyp Durron?"

"Keldon, you can't-"

"He's a murderer, Gennevi!"

Her voice was tight and controlled. "He's a Jedi Master on the Masters' Council, a good father, and a good man."

He laughed derisively. "I'll think about that the next time I remember the fact that he killed _our_ father."

Something stiffened in her jaw and she met his stare resolutely. "I'm hardly looking for your approval, my dear brother."

His smile, while mocking, was somewhat bemused. "My approval? What would you need…?" he trailed away, stared at his younger sister, glanced back to the doorway through which Durron had just disappeared moments earlier, and then whipped back around to gape at her. "My god, you… you're seeing him, aren't you? You're going to Coruscant for _him_?"

"I don't want to talk about this now, and I especially don't want to talk about this _here_," she hissed at him.

He shook his head disbelievingly. "You do what you have to do, Gennevi."

It was silent for a moment while she frowned up at him. "What does that mean?" she finally asked.

His smile was brittle and forced. "It means that, just as ever before, I want you to be happy; but if you expect me to make nice with the man who killed millions- with the man who killed our own father… I won't do it, Gennevi."

X-X-X-X

_46 ABY – Coruscant _

"Admiral Darklighter contacted me," he began haltingly. "And, uh… _shavit_… you didn't tell me- I mean, I thought that…" he took a forcedly steady breath and exhaled slowly. "I was a horrible prat, alright? But I wish you'd told me that you were getting married."

She stared. "Keldon, we haven't spoken in over a year. In fact, we haven't spoken since you stormed from my quarters- the day I resigned and before I could even begin to feel like a civilian, before I could even _dress_ like a civilian- and said I was delusional and mind-warped by Jedi tricks." He winced. "And as I recall, my one attempt to contact you _since_ then was ignored, so no, I didn't tell you that I'm getting married. Such as it is, I'm getting married in less than an hour and I _know_ you're not foolish enough to get a bride worked up so close to the main event, hm?"

The look in her older brother's eyes was pained, but it was laced with a self-directed chagrin that showed just how aware he was of the justification of her censure. "Gennevi, I know I messed up, and I'm sorry. But you have to understand how… bizarre I found the whole thing. Family considerations aside, it's hardly like I could have expected that you'd even _know_ Durron, let alone that you'd been seeing him for the better part of two years."

Gennevi sniffed. "I wasn't _seeing _him for the better part of two years," she countered coldly. "I saw him twice in all that time while we fulfilled our existing obligations to the Fleet and to the Jedi."

"Right," Keldon muttered uncomfortably. "Well, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry and… well, I guess I've done that now, so I can go if you'd like."

She let out a heavy sigh. "You came all the way to Coruscant for that?"

He flushed in chagrin. "I- no, not exactly. I bumped up a meeting that was scheduled for next month with some contractors, but I thought that… if you wanted me to… I could be there for you. I could even give you away, if you…?"

"It isn't really that kind of a wedding, Keldon, given the lack of familial relations on either side…" he looked cowed again. "Anyway, Han already offered and I turned him down."

Keldon blinked. "Han Solo?" She inclined her head stiffly. "Wow," he whistled.

Gennevi rolled her eyes. "If you want, you can stay. I'm sure Leia and Mara would be more than happy to show you to the ceremony hall. Anything to keep them out of here for a few more minutes," she smiled ruefully. Her brother came forward and folded her into a hesitant and careful hug that nevertheless served to ease some of the tension between them. "I'm sorry that I won't get the chance to see Sephina and the children."

A definitely guilty look settled on his face. "They, ah- they're in a room down the corridor with the young Skywalker boy- Ben, is it?"

After an incredulous pause, Gennevi laughed. "Oh, alright, go- tell them that I look forward to seeing them after the ceremony." He smiled warmly and backed out of the room. "Oh!" Gennevi called after him, "and tell Leyla to get back in here and _get dressed_!"

The girl in question stuck her head in the room and grinned. "I don't think you're able to tell me what to do for about another hour."

"Leyla, you're almost twenty years old and- more importantly perhaps- are constantly armed with a lightsaber. I don't think I'll ever be giving you orders… at least not ones I expect to be followed. Nevertheless," she sized up the young woman before her, "I am getting married in forty-five minutes, which means I am in charge, so get out of that grimy jumpsuit and put your dress on!"

A sly smirk touched Leyla's lips even as she retrieved her amethyst gown from the closest on the far side of the dressing room. "You know," she murmured softy as she began unfastening the clasps on her jumpsuit, "I seem to recall that several months ago, you proposed getting married in your dress uniform and dad in his Jedi-wear…" She peered over at the shimmering silver fabric that adorned the figure of the coming bride. "Seems a pretty big step up to me."

"And for that," Gennevi responded delicately, "you may blame your grandmother."

X-X-X-X

_Thyferra_

The insectoid vratix sat on the other side of a one-way transparisteel window, seemingly unaware of those observing it, looking for any signs of change in its behavior, in the steadiness of its life signs. It was also seemingly unaware of the fact that a small quantity of a deadly gas had just been pumped into its specially modified, air-tight cell.

Seconds ticked by, and it seemed that the humans on the opposite side of the viewing pane collectively held their breath as they observed the experiment being conducted on the Ashern rebel vratix. The being- not truly a he or she, and referring to itself in the collective whenever it spoke- had painted its carapace black and sharpened the claws on its forelegs. Both acts were symbolic as well as practical for the rebellious insects who resorted to uncharacteristic violence to attempt to completely remove foreign aliens- humans, mostly- from the process of bacta production and from their home world.

Executions of the Ashern were all too frequent occurrences at the central detention facility in the capital city of Xozhixi. This particular execution was wholly different however, not least for the reason that the ultimate goal of the experiment was for the vratix to survive- unlike its co-conspirator who lay dead in the next cell. And indeed, as the door to the observation gallery slid open and a woman slipped inside, the tension seemed to break and the chief administrator turned questioningly to the tall, cloaked man at his side.

The silence stretched on for ten more seconds while the man closed his eyes and concentrated… and then he relaxed and sighed. "No change; the experiment is successful." The relief was evident on the balding administrator's face. "Continue to monitor Brey overnight for further signs of the poison; if he shows none, you may execute him how and when you see fit. Just be sure to fully purify the air before you break the seal."

The shorter man nodded his understanding and his companion turned to the woman and motioned her out of the gallery. He followed her to a nearby conference room and waved on the lights with a flick of his wrist. With a heavy sigh, he sank down into a chair and rubbed his eyes. "The whole process would make me less queasy if the vratix's reward for surviving wasn't a swift execution tomorrow."

"He's dead either way," the woman pointed out quietly. "Better to do it this way than to test the substance on vratix randomly pulled from the population." Her companion said nothing and peered at her with reluctant curiosity until she relented with a sigh of her own. "Sullust has fallen."

A fist clenched, but he sighed and shrugged resignedly. "Belotab must be getting pretty nervous."

"He won't do anything drastic; not while there is still so much he doesn't understand. We have time." She perched on the edge of the conference table and touched a hand to his cheek, caressing softly. "Relax, darling; the galaxy will still be waiting for us in the morning."

He brought his hand up to clasp hers tightly. "For some reason, that thought isn't wholly comforting. Then again…" he considered, "things should be pretty interesting when we make it back to base. I thought we'd ship out tomorrow evening."

She nodded. "Come to bed?"

"In a minute."

But as he watched Tahlia's retreating figure, Zekk couldn't shake the image of the dead vratix lying on the floor of its cell. Its passing had been nearly painless, swift- indeed, from the first introduction of the poison into the cell, it had died in under a minute. To go so quickly, lacking comprehension, not even knowing why or how…

Perhaps it wouldn't be such an awful way to go.

X-X-X-X


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Bastion_

Inching uncomfortably close to the century mark in life, Gilad Pellaeon was content to take simple comforts where he could find them- but nevertheless maintained a certain level of restlessness in his retirement that was somewhat assuaged by weekly briefing reports compiled by his successor, Admiral Vitor Reige. Indeed, when the _Bloodfin_- the pride of the Imperial Home Fleet- was in orbit near Bastion, Reige took the time when he found it to visit the Imperial Palace on the planet and confer with his predecessor in person. Sometimes he asked advice, sometimes he took the opportunity to share concerns and complaints that only one who had been in his position before could truly understand and sometimes… sometimes the two of them just sat and talked about whatever which topic came up, for hours on end.

Those instances came about rarely anymore. Heads of state and supreme commanders rarely had the luxury of extensive free time, as Pellaeon knew well. Consequently, it was a bit of surprise when he received word that Reige was to be paying him a visit that evening, especially given reports of further upheaval and system secessions from the Galactic Alliance. When he arrived though, Reige quickly waved aside that line of inquiry and sat back in the proffered arm chair with his snifter of brandy and peered intently at the elderly man.

"We have intrigue much closer to home, I'm afraid, sir," Reige confessed and sighed heavily, taking a quick sip of the pale brown liquid. "A taskforce commander in the Third Fleet seemingly vanished without a trace during a fortnight furlough. He was tracked as far as here, but there is little evidence to even suggest that he made it in his own front door."

"Desertion is uncommon these days, but not unheard of," Pellaeon countered evenly.

"No," Reige frowned lightly, "this is something else. The commander- a Davik Antell- paid one known visit while on Bastion… to the apartment of one Sydrion Myntox, a mechanic in the Home Fleet, and his wife Wynssa, better known by her maiden name of Wynssa Fel. This Sydrion Myntox served aboard the same flagship in the Third where Antell was a longtime commander of Bloodfin squadron. Myntox left the _Ocean_ almost two years ago and transferred into the Home Fleet while his wife was pregnant, to be closer to Bastion purportedly."

Pellaeon cocked a brow as he considered his successor's words. "An affair, perhaps?"

Reige chuckled. "That was my first guess, when I began looking through the files."

"But you no longer believe that?"

"I am nearly certain that is _not_ the case. Because such as it is, sir, I don't believe that Davik Antell is who he says he is; in fact, I do not believe there to be such a person at all."

The brow rose a fraction higher towards his grey hairline. "And pray tell- who has deserted the Third Fleet?"

Reige grinned sardonically. "Only the best dupe of a con ever executed against the Imperial Navy. Actually, it is really quite embarrassing that it was not spotted sooner, though I expect some complicity on the part of Admiral Nhylatich."

"You have a remarkably cavalier tone regarding the treachery of an admiral under your command, Vitor," Pellaeon remarked casually.

"Ah," Reige took a swig from his snifter, "I said he was a con, I never said he was a traitor; indeed, by all accounts, Commander Antell's service record is exemplary- save one, small, anomalous count against it, and here is where I came to suspect Nhylatich's knowledge of the scam: Antell was granted an absurdly long leave of absence eight years ago. His file mentions something vague about personal matters, but he was gone for well over six months."

"I am failing to see the connection, Vitor."

A wry smile touched the younger man's lips. "The last month of his leave coincides perfectly with a leave granted to Sydrion Myntox so that he and his wife could travel to Ossus and visit with her family, including…"

"Her father and brother who had just turned up alive after being believed dead for… well over six months," Pellaeon finished for him, a new note of curiosity in his tone. "Let me see if I can follow your story through to its conclusion then," he murmured. "Tal Nhylatich graduates in the same class at Carida as Soontir Fel, the two are assigned the same fighter squadron and rise through the ranks together. Fel defects to the New Republic, is captured by Isard and presumed dead, is rediscovered alive and with Thrawn's people more than a decade later, and seemingly never again has any contact with his former squadron mate. For all intents and purposes, Nhylatich and Fel were vague acquaintances at the Academy, briefly serving together afterwards, and never spoke again."

"That is precisely the reading I had of the situation."

"Then we can assume that it is _also _a fabrication," Pellaeon smiled distantly, old but keen mind working hard. "What do we know of the Fel children?"

Reige pulled a datapad from his pocket and spoke absently as he turned it on and began perusing relevant files. "Very little, save for Wynssa and Jagged. The other three were dead- all in battle- before Soontir Fel joined the Ascendancy near the end of the war with the Yuuzhan Vong. What little we _do _know, however, should suffice to understand the rest of the story…"

He passed the datapad to Pellaeon, who skimmed it and chuckled lightly. "A delightfully obvious deception, no?" he murmured softly. "Davik Antell- a pseudonym that is an homage to two dead brothers and- most infuriatingly obvious of all- to his mother's family."

"They say the best means of hiding something is to put it in plain sight."

Pellaeon frowned. "But who was this last Fel child being hidden _from_?" he asked. "And more importantly perhaps, given his apparent disappearance- have they found him at last?"

X-X-X-X

_Coruscant_

Jaina Solo-Fel watched with a wryly bemused smile as her seven-year-old son Naviin chased Gennevi's youngest nephew around the banquet room where a decently sized crowd was gathered, chatting and drinking. Thiren Lassiter was only a few months older than Naviin, and it was nice to have someone who was family- sort of- who was Navi's age. Not that Leyla, Ben, and even Jacen had any trouble entertaining their much younger brother, cousin, and nephew, respectively.

And speaking of that trio…

Jaina shook her head. They had disappeared some time ago and she had no doubt that they were up to no good. It hadn't seemed to matter when Jacen was elevated to the rank of Master, he was still such a little kid at heart… just a little kid with an exceptional grasp of the Force, she supposed. And Ben had been knighted for over three years now, and Leyla nearly two, so they were hardly around Ossus anymore where she still lived with Jag and took on an ever-increasing role as instructor at the academy where Naviin was just starting to partake in some of the simplest exercises with the youngest of the students.

Perhaps life on the forested world of Ossus was less exciting than one they might enjoy on Coruscant again, but Jag assured her that he was still content to live a quiet life where he spent his time in a more or less anonymous role as a coordinator for traffic and communications in and out of the temple on Ossus. If nothing else, Jaina suspected that her husband enjoyed the simple fact that he was able to see more of her and Naviin than he had of Leyla while he was serving as ambassador for the Chiss Ascendancy.

Of course, having factions within the political sphere in the Ascendancy attempt to assassinate Jag and his father had pretty effectively put a halt to that career. And for the past seven years, the overall impact of that whole fiasco had faded quietly into the background, with Jag joining his family on Ossus and Soontir relocating to his home world of Corellia where his wife had already returned to be near her brother's family.

And now she wondered just how wrong she was about any of it fading quietly.

"Not you too?" a good-natured voice sounded above her, and she glanced up into Kyp's eyes, bright with excitement and happiness despite the vague sense of concern that emanated from him.

"Sorry?"

He twisted a chair around and sat down by her side, following her somewhat absent gaze towards the playing children. By now, Keldon and Sephina Lassiter's two older children, Persy and Tryss, aged thirteen and eleven, had joined Thiren and Naviin in whatever game the young kids had concocted. "You're brooding," Kyp commented idly. "You going to clue me in on what's going on? Soontir and Syal are noticeably disquieted and Jag seems wired tighter than See-Threepio in an asteroid field."

"Kyp, have you ever actually _seen_ Threepio in an asteroid field?"

"Have you?" he shot back playfully and then grinned winningly when she rolled her eyes. "Come on," he nudged her arm with an elbow, "what's going on?"

She bit her lip and glanced down. "We didn't want to put a damper on your big day, Kyp."

"Hey," he frowned, "I'm not _that_ egotistical, I know that the galaxy doesn't stop turning just because I'm getting married- so spill."

A quick glance assured her that they were far enough away from anyone else to need to worry about eavesdroppers. "Cem has gone missing, he failed to report back for duty after a two-week leave from the Third." Kyp's eyes widened slightly. "Before you ask anything, we don't really know much. Wyn contacted Jag last night- you remember the call- and they're waiting to be able to get word through to Cem's commanding officer sometime tonight, probably, to see if there's anything else he can pass along that might be of any help." She sighed. "It's all very tricky though because… well, in the Defense Fleet, he isn't Cem Fel, he's Davik Antell, and the admiral of his flagship is the only person who knows his true identity."

Kyp let out a long and heavy breath. "Am I crazy if I jump right to trying to connect this to Zekk and Tahlia?"

"Only as crazy as I am," she admitted, "that was my first thought. Jag was… less than thrilled with the prospect."

"It needn't be a bad connection," Kyp countered reasonably. "We don't know _why_ Zekk and Tahlia dropped off the charts like that, but they must have had a very good reason."

"Like being captured by renegade factions among the Chiss?"

Kyp frowned heavily down at her. "We have no reason to believe that."

The rush of frustration was nearly enough to topple his chair, though Jaina's face betrayed little of the sudden emotion. "It's been more than three _years_ now, Kyp," she hissed. "Zekk is my oldest friend and I can't believe that he would disappear without a word, without an explanation, if he had a choice." She drew a shuddering breath. "Unless he was doing something he was ashamed of," she added so quietly that Kyp had to strain to hear her.

"You can't seriously believe that Zekk, of all people…"

"What am I supposed to believe?" she asked softly, almost dangerously. "I… I can still sense him sometimes, you know? When his emotions are running high… there's an anger there, a bitterness, like I've never before sensed in Zekk since his days with the Shadow Academy. And Tahlia… I never knew her very well as it is, and given her past…"

Kyp looked skeptical. "Her past is not so different from Vulcor's, but I don't hear you postulate his fall to the dark side."

"It's different with Vulcor."

"Because he saved Leyla's life?"

"No," Jaina retorted sharply. "It's more than that. Tahlia- she's older, Vulcor was little more than a scared kid when you recovered him from Gree Baaker. Tahlia had duties outside of Red Hand, responsibilities she carried out willingly, away from the heavy hand of Wrynn and that Xela woman," she spat the last name like a curse, forcefully pushing aside the haunting image of the dark woman with an unconscious seven-year-old Leyla in her arms, stealing her away from her room in the middle of the night.

"She helped save Jag's life," Kyp pointed out evenly. "And Soontir's, and Formbi's."

Jaina shrugged exhaustedly. "I don't know, Kyp. I'm just anxious, I'm sorry- don't let me bring your mood down today of all days."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching as Ben and Leyla- who had reappeared sometime during her conversation with Kyp- chatted amicably with Syal and Myri Antilles, while the girls' parents stood laughing at some private joke with Corran and Mirax Horn. On the far side of the room, Jaina noticed that Leia was talking with the chief of staff to Ferrin Belotab, Wynn Dorvan, and she shook her head at her mother's inability to stay out of the realm of politics no matter how hard she tried to devote her time to the Jedi instead.

Eventually, the bride herself turned up and stared down at the two of them, hands planted on her hips as she scowled exaggeratedly. "How do you like this?" she asked Jaina. "Married for two hours and he's already slouching off to sit down and leaving me to make nice with the guests I barely know. Am I allowed to order him around yet?"

Jaina stared incredulously. "You weren't doing that already?"

Kyp shot her a betrayal-filled look as Gennevi chuckled. "Point; husband, why don't you go and get some cider for us poor exhausted ladies."

He stood and executed a low bow to his new wife, who struggled to withhold the giggle that threatened to escape her. "Thy will is my command, fair lady." And he meandered off in the direction of the refreshment table, leaving his seat open for Gennevi to usurp.

"It's a very nice party," Jaina commented.

The older woman grinned. "Tell your mother; I've hardly been allowed anywhere near the planning of this whole day, between her and Mara…"

Jaina laughed delightedly. "Sorry; that's my fault, really. I got married on three weeks' notice, in the middle of a forest, in a green dress…"

"You rebel."

"Family heritage," she smiled proudly. "Always up for defying tradition."

Gennevi nodded, glancing sidelong at the Jedi by her side. She hesitated a moment, and then asked casually, "So when did you talk to Admiral Darklighter?"

"Oh, I-" Jaina stopped and frowned heavily. "What?"

"I had to take a few minutes to pinpoint your hand in the matter," Gennevi confessed, "but it was really rather obvious when I did. I didn't really share my family issues with anyone besides Kyp, though Leyla is smart enough that she probably guessed most of it… and I can hardly imagine the two of them are able to keep a secret from you for long. And I couldn't imagine either of them being comfortable asking Gavin to contact Keldon, but you've known him a very long time."

Having the good grace not to try to deny it, Jaina still looked flushed and embarrassed. "I'm sorry for going behind your back like that. I just," she swallowed thickly, "I couldn't imagine how you must have felt, with your only close family not coming to your own wedding…"

Gennevi considered that a moment before turning and offering a simple smile to the younger woman. "Don't apologize; I'm glad you did. Keldon and I… we're both far too stubborn for our own good, we could easily have let this tear us apart for years, when really…" she sighed. "I understand why he was upset- I'd have to be pretty thick not to- and I could have at least been more tactful in explaining to him the situation. And for all his indignation… Keldon knows that holding someone responsible for the things they did as a teenager, the things they did under the power of the dark side… I think he can accept that the Jedi Master I fell in love with is not the embittered, lonely teenager who attacked the remnants of the government that deprived him of his family and his freedom as a little boy."

Jaina reached over and touched her hand lightly to the bride's arm. "I'm glad, for all of you. And I couldn't have asked for a better… er…" she frowned. "If I'm the mother of your stepdaughter, that makes you…?"

"The stepmother of your daughter?" Gennevi deadpanned.

Jaina laughed, shrugged, and accepted the glass of sparkling cider that Kyp offered moments later.

X-X-X-X

"Mother says that you're my uncle now."

Kyp stared down at the eleven-year-old girl, Tryss Lassiter, and smiled wryly. "I suppose I am; I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to meet you before today, Tryss."

She shrugged easily. "Father said that you and Aunt Gennevi have been very busy. He said that you were training Leyla how to be a Jedi Knight." Kyp concealed his pleasant surprise that Gennevi's brother hadn't told his children the true reason they had not see their aunt in years. "My uncle Mabhar and aunt Lucette have two kids but they're both boys, so they always want to play with Thiren and Persy," Tryss went on. "So I think it's exciting that I finally have a girl for a cousin; even if she _is_ grown up already."

_Grown up_. Kyp fought the urge to scowl at that. Leyla might be nineteen and a Jedi Knight, but being an _adult_ was a whole different matter.

"And Leyla said that it was nice to have some more cousins," Tryss went on, undeterred by Kyp' silence in the short gaps in her own speech, "because she only has two and one's just a baby, and she only has one brother who's Thiren's age and-"

"Tryss," a deep and quiet voice interrupted her. She tilted her head up to look at her father, and she grinned. "Why don't you go find your little brother, it's getting late."

"But I was talking to Uncle Kyp," she protested.

Keldon's lips twitched but he maintained an impassive face. "And I'm sure you'll have the opportunity to do so again in the near future."

She relented and ran off, leaving the two men to regard each other quietly for a long moment, before Kyp finally broke the mildly awkward silence. "I'm glad you and your family came."

"Are you?" Keldon asked curiously.

"It made Gennevi happy."

Keldon opened his mouth, closed it and considered a moment, and then chuckled drily. "Good answer, Durron." He sized him up. "Look- when Gennevi and I were kids, we got shuffled around a bit too often, but the one constant for us was always each other; and when our mother died, I looked after Gennevi until she was old enough to enlist in the Fleet and get away from the planet she never liked in the first place. So you better take care of my little sister, or- I don't care if you are a Jedi Master- you'll have me to talk to."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Kyp replied honestly. "But you have nothing to worry about. I love her; she's the best thing to happen to me in a very long time."

"You taking her somewhere nice?"

Kyp smiled. "Spira; don't tell her, it's still a surprise."

"Spira," Keldon nodded slowly. "Bright sun, sandy beaches, sparkling oceans…"

"Everything Coruscant is lacking, in other words," Kyp drawled. Keldon actually laughed and, hesitating only a moment, Kyp held out his hand. His new brother-in-law took it slowly but accepted the handshake easily. "I truly am glad you came, Keldon."

Keldon Lassiter considered him for a long moment before he sighed and nodded. "As am I, Kyp." His eyes drifted over to where his wife was trying to keep their three children in line. "When you're back from your honeymoon, find some time to come out to Kuat; the children should know their family, and Gennevi's seen them so infrequently during her tenure in the military."

"We would be honored."

Keldon nodded to him once more, and then went to join his family and help his youngest son shrug back into his little formal jacket. As Kyp watched them, he felt his wife- still a strange thought- come to stand by his side. He drew an arm around her shoulders and leaned over to kiss the top of her head as she settled comfortably against him. "That looked like an interesting conversation," she commented mildly.

"Nah; just inviting us out to Kuat when we get a chance."

He felt her surprise as she twisted her neck around to look up at him incredulously. "From mortal enemies to social calls in less than a day?"

"Aren't I just impressive?"

She grinned. "Of course. You still got some left in you?"

"Impressiveness? Yeah, sure. Why?"

Her hand slipped into his and she pulled him into a corner of the darkened room that was gradually emptying as the reception wound down. Her arms drifted lazily around his neck and she pulled him down for a soft and lingering kiss. When they broke apart, she smiled slyly. "I'm a newly-wed," she murmured. "And it's my wedding night." At the first sign of Kyp's cocky smirk that was all-too Han-like, she pressed a finger to his lips. "_And_," she continued, "Leia and Mara said that if we're not out of here and enjoying marital bliss in fifteen minutes, they're going to do something to sabotage our whole evening."

"Oh? Did they say what?"

"No- but I see no reason whatsoever to doubt their capabilities of doing so. Do you?"

"Not in the slightest," he conceded. "And I'd hate to keep the lady waiting. Shall we?"

X-X-X-X


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_29 ABY – Csaus – Chiss Ascendancy_

The alarm had woken him in the middle of the night, and a cold weight settled over him as he quickly dressed and made his way to the most heavily guarded and secretive of scientific facilities in the planetary capital. In the centermost lab of the complex, behind numerous blast doors and several coded entryways, there was an intruder.

And Syndic Csun'abr'inrokini had a fearful suspicion that he knew who it was.

Gripping his charric in one hand, he keyed in the last access code to enter the top-secret facility. There would be no guards to assist him, even in his significantly advanced age- this was his mess, and it was up to him to clean it up.

The exterior entryway was darkened, and he did not turn on any lighting. Creeping slowly along the sterile corridors, he brought the deadly weapon to bear outside a glass door and waved it open with a gesture from his free hand. It slid silently and he ducked inside the darkened control room and took three steps towards the security set-up- when the lights came on blindingly.

"I confess," a low and even voice murmured, "I had rather expected your arrival about ten minutes ago, Csun'abr'inrokini."

Quickly adjusting to the light, he raised the weapon towards the source of the voice… and then felt it loosen in his grasp as his eyes widened and he took an involuntary step backwards.

"But then," the figure allowed reasonably, "you are not as young as you once were."

X-X-X-X

_46 ABY - Wild Space – Planetoid 5249125_

"This place is miserable."

"Now now, Nabrin, it is not so bad, as hideouts go."

"You would know," the other relented with a huff. "What news?"

His companion spoke idly, as though commenting on the weather. "Sullust has seceded."

A soft snort. "Right on schedule." He stopped to input a clearance code, and heavy blast doors slid open after a moment's pause. "What is next?"

"Bothan Space." Silence stretched out between them, punctured by the clanging sounds of heavy boots on permacrete floors. "The bothans will not be so easily intimidated."

"Until they start dying, you mean."

"Yes. This was never going to be bloodless, Nabrin."

"I have long ago accepted that fact."

A wry chuckle slipped past dark lips. "Ironic that so many of your former people would think you didn't have the stomach for it, after your failure to execute the Fels as planned eight years ago."

"A failure I rue all the more when forced upon places like this," he returned sardonically, and his companion chuckled lowly. "The shadow son…?"

"It is done."

He hesitated. "And the other?"

"All in due course, my old friend."

X-X-X-X

_Coruscant_

She had known him for years, had trusted her own life and those of her family in his hands, had him to largely thank for rescuing Jag from imprisonment in the Ascendancy- but something about Ashik's glowing red eyes continued to unnerve Jaina even now, and she wondered if it wasn't just association with the people who had betrayed her husband and father-in-law. His loyalty to the Fels even above his own race was undeniable, even at the cost of his own self-imposed exile from the Ascendancy in the interests of continuing to look after Soontir and Syal.

With sparkling clarity, Jaina recalled the discussion that threatened to turn into a fierce argument over Ashik's oath of loyalty and how to fulfill it in light of the circumstances that caused Soontir to relocate to Corellia and Jag to Ossus. Both men had suggested first that Ashik return to his family on Csilla and, when that idea was flatly refused, that he accompany Cem to the Imperial Remnant. Cem had quickly discounted that suggestion by pointing out that having a chiss aide wouldn't do wonders for maintaining his hidden identity.

In the end, the sons' concern for their parents' safety on Corellia- the logic being first, that if further retribution were sought against the Fels, it would be directed against Soontir and second, Jag was absurdly well-protected by the remoteness of Ossus and the numerous Jedi present- meant that Ashik had gone to Corellia as well where he had spent the past seven years as an extension of the Fel and Antilles families. In that capacity, he had been instrumental in saving Leyla from the twisted schemes of a deluded former Imperial Moff who tried to use her to acquire vengeance against Kyp for bringing down the organization known as Red Hand.

Now though, Ashik seemed to be taking the news about Cem's disappearance quite dejectedly. In the ten days since the wedding, the Fels had spoken twice with the fleet commander, Admiral Nhylatich, and probably another half-dozen times with Wyn and Syd, but the simple fact was that everyone was stumped. Whether he had purposefully disappeared or someone had orchestrated his kidnapping or- Jaina hated to even think it- his murder, it had been performed with unparalleled perfection. The fact that the person who had officially disappeared- Commander Davik Antell- didn't truly exist just added a whole new level of eeriness to the whole matter.

"I still don't know what you think you'll find on Bastion," Wedge confessed to his brother-in-law, concern shining in his hazel eyes, hazel eyes that had been passed from the Antilles family into the Fel line to both Cem and to Naviin. "If the Remnant's own investigations, not to mention those of the Defense Fleet, didn't turn up anything at all, let alone anything of use…"

"They don't know what to look for," Soontir argued.

"And perhaps it matters little at this point, but aren't you worried about revealing decades of deception by taking up the investigation personally?"

"We can veil the trip as an extended visit to Wynssa, for a time."

"I'd like to go to Csilla."

A long silence filled the room as everyone turned to look at Ashik in surprised confusion. "Why?" Jag finally asked. "Cem's never even lived on Csilla."

Red eyes flickered around the room. Jaina, Jag, Soontir, Syal, Wedge, and Iella all met his gaze evenly. "It is where he and I began our investigation to learn what had become of you, Baron, and you, Ambassador," he directed towards Soontir and Jag, ever formal in his mannerisms even now. "If Commander Fel was forced to go into hiding, your old estate would be an obvious place to leave a clue for his family that he did not want the Empire to find first."

Everyone seemed to mull that over a minute while Jaina stared open-mouthed around the room. "You can't be serious?" she finally blurted out incredulously. "At the very least, you can't go by yourself."

"Csilla would be too dangerous for any but a chiss."

"Zekk, Tahlia, and Cem," Jaina exclaimed. "You're the last one, don't you see that, Ashik?"

Jag sighed. "Jaina…"

"If you go alone, we'll never know what happened to you."

His glowing eyes contracted in consternation, but it was Jag who spoke instead- and his words made Jaina's heart sink even further. "Then I'll go with him. Father can go to Bastion and meet with Admiral Nhylatich, and I will accompany Ashik to Csilla."

"I don't like it," Ashik declared.

"_I_ don't like it," Jaina added hotly. "The last time you went to Csilla, you didn't come back for ten months."

Jag took her hand in his and pulled her to her feet, leading her to a quiet corner of the room where they would be less in the spotlight. "Darling, don't you see? That is precisely why I must go. When I was lost, Cem came for me."

"And I didn't?" Jaina asked bitterly, wiping angrily at hot tears collecting in the corners of her eyes.

"No," Jag breathed, pressing his forehead to hers and folding her in a tender embrace. "That's not what I mean at all, Jaina. You protected Naviin, and I would never have desired you do differently. But I owe a debt to my brother to seek answers, just as I owe Ashik my help in doing so. And…" he trailed off and smiled sadly, "if we learn anything of Zekk and Tahlia, father and I owe them as well."

She drew a shaky breath. "I want to go with you."

"We can't both leave Navi; especially not with Leyla leaving for the Senex Sector in another two weeks."

"Luke and Mara can watch over him on Ossus."

He cupped her face gently and forced her red-rimmed eyes up to his. "Jaina," he said softly, seriously, "I swear to you that I will be back. I won't be caught off-guard again, and you know Ashik will do everything in his power to keep me from any potential danger. But if I can't know that you're looking after Naviin, then I won't go at all." She squeezed her eyes shut and drew a steadying breath. "In any case," he caressed her cheek softly, "we won't be leaving for at least another week, perhaps even two or more. We'll need to establish a trustworthy point of contact among the Ruling Families, and that will take time."

Wiping at her eyes, Jaina leaned against the wall and took a deep breath, looking blearily out over the Antilles and the Fels who were attempting to look like they hadn't been paying _that_ much attention to the short argument between her and Jag. "When will you leave?" she asked Soontir.

He glanced at his wife first. "Tomorrow, perhaps the next day," he said slowly, and Syal nodded. "Enough time to bid farewell to Leyla and Naviin, contact Wynssa and Tal one more time, take care of any other pressing matters."

Iella looked up at her in-laws. "Wedge and I will come with you at a word, you realize."

Syal smiled gratefully up at her and Soontir nodded. "We appreciate it, Iella, truly. I hope it shall not come to it, but," he grinned in a remarkably Han-like and roguish way, "if we need those old CorSec skills of investigation, you'll be our first call." He sat back and considered her. "In the meantime, perhaps you can start utilizing them to figure out just what in blazes is happening to the Galactic Alliance."

X-X-X-X

Leyla rubbed at eyes that were exhausted after staring at a computer console screen in the Senate archives for the past two hours. She hadn't yet been knighted two years, but one thing had already become glaringly obvious to her about Jedi Knighthood- it involved a lot more tedious discussion and painstaking research than most kids with fantasies about awesome feats of telepathy, telekinesis, and swinging lightsabers imagined.

That unfortunate fact was hitting her harder now than before because, for once, she didn't have someone with whom to share the workload. On the other hand, it was exciting to be undertaking her first solo mission as a Jedi Knight, endless hours of reading material that was often contradictory and _always_ confusing aside. The political situation of the Senex Sector was complex at best, and the economic reality reflected that quite harshly. A lack of unified policy meant that certain worlds- those more strongly under the control of the stronger of the Ancient Houses- existed more or less at the whim of whichever family was most powerful.

Where this became a Jedi problem was in the Senex Sector's thriving underground trade in slaves. Most in the sector would undoubtedly not refer to them as slaves, but Leyla couldn't really understand what else one might call sentient beings who were subject to a life of servitude with no chance for freedom. It seemed a bizarre combination of a caste-type system, in which a certain class of people were supposedly just born to serve, and were subject to the whims of 'superiors' to determine where and how to serve, and something similar to the Kuati telbun practice.

Questionable practices in that regard aside, the greater issue that Leyla was looking into was the movement of slaves in, out, and around the sector which was where the Galactic Alliance could officially claim an interest, given the loose connection of the Senex-Juvex systems to the Alliance itself. Such as it was, there was certainly a thriving business in breeding slaves on the world of Karfeddion, and if it could be proven that some of those slaves were making it into Alliance space, the whole sector would have a new set of problems on its hands.

And after spending weeks delving into the culture and practices of the region, Leyla certainly had no problem being the one to bring those problems to the Ancient Houses.

"You know," a low voice drawled behind her, "we have our very own archives over in the temple…"

She spun her seat around and crossed her arms as she stared down her older cousin, Ben. "The Senate's records are more up to date, in this particular case."

"Hm," he frowned, peering over her shoulder to glance at the terminal, "and can… Karfeddion and Yetoom Na Uun spare you for the rest of the evening? Battek and Tivan just got in from the Lahara Sector and are pretty stir crazy from traipsing about a bunch of small agricultural colony worlds."

"And they want to find some fantastically shady tapcaf just to see if trouble starts?"

Ben shook his head and rolled his eyes. "No, I think they just want to feel like they're back in the civilized galaxy. So come on," he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of her seat, ignoring her half-hearted protests, "they haven't seen you in ages."

"Wait, wait," she laughed as he pulled her through the rows of data consoles, "let me at least shut down my system properly."

"Nope," he refused her, "believe me when I say, Leyla, no one cares that you're going to Kafrennidon-"

"Karfeddion," she scowled.

"-or Yenoot An Muu-"

She sighed heavily and resigned herself to being dragged from the Archives.

X-X-X-X


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Coruscant_

Leia thanked Threepio- many times- before he finally accepted that her guests were comfortable and required no further refreshment. When the metallic clicking of his feet died away as he returned to the kitchen, Leia smiled wryly at Wynn Dorvan and Ferrin Belotab. "He's always been a little… over-enthusiastic."

Wynn grinned. "I have some remarkably fond memories of my early days in politics when he would make a fuss over a single word in translated transcripts, insisting that in true Twi'leki, there is no equivalent for the Basic word 'magnanimous'…"

"Please, don't remind me," she sighed, and then turned to the Chief of State. "Chief Belotab, you'll have to forgive the delay in arranging this meeting; things have been a little chaotic for us with the whole family being on Coruscant, and the wedding…"

"Of course," Ferrin smiled easily, and did his best to ignore the fact that the last two times he had dealt with Solos, horribly bad things had ensued- first, in the treachery and death of his wife and second, in the near-assassination of Cal Omas that was just barely thwarted by Jacen Solo. "And really, it is I who should apologize, Leia. It would have, perhaps, been proper for us to sit down and talk long before now. After all, there are so few who truly appreciate the pressures of the job."

Leia's lips quirked. "Ah, but I only ran the New Republic- you have the entire Galactic Alliance on your shoulders, Ferrin. Though I suspect that fact is not encouraging at the moment."

The Chief of Staff of the largest and most influential political body in the known galaxy leaned forward in his seat, expression serious and a bit overwhelmed. "That fact is, to be sure, quite daunting at the moment," he confirmed. "You know, of course, about the withdrawal of both Rodia and Falleen from the Alliance in the past six months," Leia nodded. "Well it will not be made public knowledge for another few days, but I was informed three weeks ago that Sullust will be ceding membership as well."

Her brows shot up. "Sullust? That makes no sense whatsoever- even _less_ sense than Rodia and Falleen, at any rate. From a military standpoint, it's economic suicide."

"Unless Sorosuub finds another contractor," Wynn shrugged. "But you're absolutely right, with the way the charter stands, the Defense Fleet has to give preference to member worlds over non-members, and more than one company will rush to fill the niche that Sorosuub occupied. Of course, they'll still attract plenty of private business, but I doubt the corporation will hold up for long without the capital being poured in by the military." He paused. "And all of that isn't even to mention that all government and military personnel who are not established expatriates with current citizenship on Alliance worlds will be forced to resign. Training academies will have to bump up rotation schedules to fill the gaps left by all the sullustans serving in the Fleet."

"Planetary political upheaval?"

Ferrin shrugged. "Nothing unusual to speak of."

Leia frowned heavily. "Are there any indicators that the systems who have pulled away from the Galactic Alliance- not just the three major ones, but the smaller ones who come and go as politics and economics allow- are banding together? Perhaps trying to form an independent federation from the GA?"

Wynn considered a moment. "Nothing current. There were factions within the governments of both Rodia and Falleen who supported the short-lived attempt to build a Confederation with Corellia as a rallying point, but those schemes seem to have died with Centerpoint. Several of the smaller bodies- Marikes, Reylion, Xuspcz- strongly supported the idea of a separate Confederation as well, probably as much in the interests of feeling more important in the galaxy than out of any true ideological sense."

"And," Ferrin murmured, "all of that aside, there is no indication of a forming alliance among any of the states who are now abandoning the GA, no indication that any of the secessions are related or even discussed among those who have gone before."

There was a long silence while the three stared around at one another. Then Leia let out a low sigh and shook her head. "Better you than me here," she joked drily to Ferrin, who winced and pursed his lips. "Then again- you have member-systems seceding with seemingly little cause and with little notice… how much worse could it get?"

"Leia, learning the answer to that question is what I am trying to avoid."

"I'm not sure what help I can give you," she admitted. "Have you spoken with Luke about having some Jedi look into things in any of these systems?"

Wynn and Ferrin exchanged a look. "We, ah… can't technically do that," Wynn confessed. "Since part of the Galactic Alliance charter includes the provision for secession without penalty or interference, provided it is done through the proper channels…"

"Right," Leia pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes in frustration. "Curse those who thought that was a good idea," she added sardonically- withdrawal without penalty had been a key element of the New Republic, establishing a clear difference between them and the Empire, and the continuation of the policy had been heavily pushed after the Yuuzhan Vong war by Leia and others who had been in politics during those tumultuous days. "You know," she added after a moment's consideration, "Han and I haven't seen our good friends Lando Calrissian and Nien Nunb in quite some time…"

Wynn smiled wryly. "Aren't they on Kessel?"

She winked. "I'm sure something can be arranged."

X-X-X-X

In retrospect, Vulcor supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised when, less than half an hour after his arrival on Coruscant, there was already a tap on the door of the room he would occupy for the next two days while he made his report and recovered before returning to Ossus where he spent the vast majority of his time as an instructor and overseer at the academy. Absently stretching out in the Force, he was pleasantly surprised by the identity of his visitor, and he opened the door with a warm smile. "I heard you were still around."

Leyla smiled brightly and slipped past him to enter the room uninvited. With a dry chuckle, the older Jedi turned again as the young woman settled herself in the chair at the bare worktable. He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed her curiously. "You missed the wedding," Leyla informed him succinctly. "It had all the essential components- beautiful women, handsome men, the potential for family feuds, none of which came to fruition, fortunately… Jedi, politicians, war heroes…"

"And you?" Vulcor teased.

"Also an essential component, to be sure," she allowed graciously, and then laughed softly. "What are you doing on Coruscant?"

A light groan and wave of his hand were her first responses. "Just… knocking some heads together at Bilbringi, of all places. A short but tedious experience all around. It seemed preferable to make a short jump here, make my report directly to the Masters' Council for once, recover for a couple days, and then head back to Ossus. Did your family head back already?"A look of extreme weariness touched her eyes ever so briefly, but it was enough for him to catch. "What, what's going on?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," she said and then winced. "Sorry, that didn't come out how I meant it. It's just… everything is sort of a mess right now. Dad and Gennevi are still traipsing about on their honeymoon, mom and Navi went back to Ossus with Luke and Mara, my grandparents are on Bastion visiting my aunt Wyn and the cousin I haven't seen since she was a newborn, my _other_ grandparents are apparently heading to Kessel in a few days…"

A frown creased Vulcor's forehead. "Where's Jag?" She blinked up at him in confusion. "You said your mother and brother returned to Ossus," he pointed out.

"Oh," she glanced down and flushed, "dad's, ah… taking care of a few things with Ashik, if you remember him…"

"The chiss?" She nodded, but volunteered no further information and Vulcor didn't press. After a moment of casting about for a subject change, he finally asked, "So are your father and your new stepmother enjoying marriage?"

A wryly amused look crossed her face. "Well, they left for Spira a week after they got married and I haven't heard from either of them since, so…"

"One of those 'no news is good news' situations?"

"Probably," she conceded delicately. "They're due back in another ten days or so, but I'm leaving tomorrow, so I'll miss them."

"And where are _you_ headed off to?"

She grinned. "Wouldn't you know, that's actually why I'm here?" She stood abruptly and gestured towards the door. "Care to go downstairs and get a cup of caf with me?"

"You hate caf." But he depressed the button to open the door once more and motioned her before him. "Still drinking ch'hala tea?"

Her smile was broad. "You _have_ been paying attention!"

They chatted about random things during the leisurely walk and turbolift ride down towards the temple cafeteria. By Vulcor's calculation, it had been close to a year since he had seen Leyla, when she had dropped in on Ossus to visit her family. The two had known each other for more than twelve years now though, since Leyla was a little girl of seven and Vulcor was a soft-spoken teenage… servant of a egomaniacal Force-user who had Leyla kidnapped as part of a deluded scheme to take over and rule the galaxy.

So not everyone was perfect.

It was an off hour for the mess hall and, therefore, was relatively empty. Leyla and Vulcor approached the nearest servi-unit and her fingers immediately began dancing across the panel faster than Vulcor could follow. "You still like fizzyglugs, right?" she asked absently, paused, and then smirked lightly and chuckled at his deadly stare. "Fine, fine… boring old caf for you."

"The lady is too kind." They took up one of the many empty tables and within a minute, a serving droid whisked over to them and placed two mugs on the table and zoomed away again, skillfully skirting around a kubaz and talz duo as they entered the cafeteria. "So for what undoubtedly unpleasant task do you need my assistance?"

She scowled exaggeratedly and then grinned before taking a careful sip of her hot drink. "Not unpleasant at all- you just have the misfortune of having visited the location of my current assignment; Senex?"

Vulcor exhaled heavily and set his mug down and considered her. "I don't envy you any task there," he confessed lowly. "The whole Senex-Juvex region is a mess. I only passed through it on my way to the Outer Rim, but it was enough to know that anything you could possibly want there is going to be a sticky situation at best."

"And this is why I talk to you," she smiled charmingly. "You put such a pleasant spin on everything…"

"I'm serious about this one," he said pointedly. "What are your mission parameters?"

She met his gaze evenly. "Piracy with specific focus on slave trade- or whatever you want to call it- encroaching on Galactic Alliance boundaries; particularly, I'm to make contact among the interstellar security elements of the various Ancient Houses and other ruling institutions and figure out just how we can convince them to step up _their _game inside the sector so that the GA has less to worry about _outside_ the sector. Obviously an ideal outcome would, someday, be for them to stop treating sentient beings like property," she concluded sardonically.

After a moment of consideration and a weary sigh, Vulcor shrugged heavily. "You probably want to start with the upper tiers of the Ancient Houses," he considered. "Vandron and Elegin on Asmeru have the most prestige in the region. Personally, I found the rulers of House Araba on Cyimarra to be the least pretentious, though that doesn't say much, given the company. There's also the House Viholn on Knores, but when I was there- which, bear in mind, was half a decade ago now- they seemed to have their signals crossed a bit. I certainly didn't trust them- any of them, really."

Leyla nodded reluctantly. "I thought I'd actually start at Karfeddion and try to get a read on trading traffic in and out, and then look into Yetoom Na Uun and see where their own imports are orig-"

"Don't go there," Vulcor cut her off harshly.

She blinked, thrown off course. "Sorry?"

"Yetoom Na Uun- don't go."

"Why?"

"Because it's a horrible place," he told her bluntly. "And what's worse, it's outside the authority accorded the Jedi and, within the borders of Senex, they simply pretend officially that it does not exist; and if you witness the cruelty of it firsthand, the fact that you're powerless to do anything about it will eat away at you and will hinder your focus on the rest of your mission."

A silence on the verge of becoming uncomfortably long hovered between them until Leyla averted her eyes from his piercing dark ones and looked down at the table and muttered, "I'll avoid it if I can."

He studied her for another long moment. "No wingmate on this one?"

Without truly meaning to, Leyla bristled and spoke a bit resentfully. "Ben can't babysit me forever, you know."

Vulcor winced. "That wasn't what I was getting at."

"I know," she slumped in her seat. "Sorry. Anyway, the Masters think it's time that I should start getting used to operating independently."

"A Jedi's training is never complete," her companion deadpanned, and she smiled, shrugged, and nodded. "How long do you anticipate being in the Senex Sector?"

She shrugged again. "A couple of months at least. I'll be sure to make my way out to Ossus soon after though," she promised, and he nodded and smiled lightly. "I should get going soon though, I promised I'd grab dinner with my grandparents and Uncle Jacen."

"When do you leave?"

"Early tomorrow."

"If I think of anything useful before I turn in for the night, I'll put together a datacard for you."

Draining the rest of her tea, Leyla smiled broadly and thanked him before standing. "Thanks for your help, Vulcor," she said sincerely. "Enjoy the rest of your fizzyglug."

"It's caf!" he called after her retreating form, and then was distracted by the servi-droid approaching again. He cocked a brow as it zipped over and placed a new beverage in front of him. "What's this?" he stared skeptically down at the bubbling green drink.

Mildly high-pitched tones replied before the droid whirred back the way it came. "It's the fizzyglug you ordered, Jedi Vulcor."

Shaking his head ruefully, Vulcor just shook his head and watched Leyla's departing figure, shaking with silent laughter.

X-X-X-X

_Yaga Minor_

Talon Karrde picked idly at a spot of lint on his vest as his eyes discreetly tracked the progress of the couple who moved across the crowded tapcaf towards him. Both were of above average height, though the dark-haired man towered easily above his companion at nearly two meters tall. The woman had a cowl drawn up over her hair, probably to ensure that the distinctive auburn color did not draw unnecessary attention. The tapcaf was crowded enough however, that there was little danger of anyone paying the trio any notice, let alone recognizing any of them on sight.

"A charming choice of meeting place," Karrde murmured as Zekk and Tahlia slid into the empty chairs across the table.

"We've been here before," Zekk informed him drily, "it's quite a favorite by now."

"Yes," Tahlia quipped, "the blaster burns in the tables add a certain flavor to the environment."

Karrde inclined his head sardonically towards her and took a long drink of his lomin ale as the two Jedi investigated and took small, cautious sips of their own brews. "I can assure you that I have seen significantly more questionable establishments in my own time. Let us to business then-" he pulled a datacard from his pocket and slid it across the scuffed wooden table. "Ghent's usual encryption."

Zekk inserted it into his datapad, but slid the device back into his pocket without keying in the complex code. "The short version?"

"Bothan Space."

The two Jedi exchanged a look and then looked back to the one-time smuggler and information hoarder. "Bothawui?" Tahlia questioned.

"Hm," Karrde shook his head and stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "Too drastic. Ghent says Torolis; colony world, some three to five million bothans... some humans, rodians, gamorreans…"

"Is that all?" Zekk muttered. "Alright- time frame?"

The older man shrugged. "They're bothans, so I would guess longer than Rodia or Sullust. Within two, maybe three months though."

Tahlia sighed heavily. "And are we any closer to identifying a laboratory? Anything?"

Karrde shook his head slowly. "Our quarry is… quite careful." He paused. "Are you struggling to meet the demand of-?"

"We have the Jedi," Zekk assured him smoothly. "You just keep providing good intel."

Lips twitching in the attempt to conceal his wry amusement, Karrde inclined his head towards him graciously. "As you command it, Master Zekk." He took a long last draught of his ale and was on the verge of standing when something else occurred to him, and he returned his attention to the pair before him. "I wonder if you'd be interested to learn that Jag Fel is purportedly, even now, en route to Csilla."

Zekk cursed under his breath. "Damn fool." He sighed. "Fine; I'll pass it along."

"Also," Karrde held up a finger, "the Solos- Han and Leia- appear to be taking an interest in the matters of Sullust. I understand they are planning a trip to Kessel to meet with Calrissian's administrator, Nien Nunb…"

Rubbing at his temples, Zekk nodded wearily and thanked Karrde as he stood and smoothly exited the tapcaf, one of several to be found on the orbital shipbuilding centers above the world of Yaga Minor.

X-X-X-X


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Bastion_

Admiral Tal Nhylatich- commander of the Galactic Alliance Third Fleet and currently on a two-week furlough- exited the apartment of the daughter of one of his oldest living comrades in Imperial service with a sense of failure that Soontir assured him was wholly unnecessary. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but feel that measures could have been taken to better protect the true identity of Commander 'Antell' after the undoubted weakening of the pseudonym after the commander's long absence from the service several years prior.

Cem Fel had come to be under his command more than twenty years prior. Eighteen at the time and already a superior pilot, Soontir had intimated that Cem would have preferred to escape his isolated life in the Empire of the Hand some years prior, but his youth would have made flying under the Remnant tricky at best. Such as it was, he only took up his role in the Imperial Fleet a few years before the Yuuzhan Vong war began, a conflict which resulted in the alliance between the former New Republic and the Imperial Remnant- and the Chiss Ascendancy, before their sudden withdrawal nine years later- and as a result, Cem flew with the Imperial forces comprising the GA Third Fleet for several years.

Even then, in the years following the truce between the New Republic and what was left of the Empire, Tal had known that to help his former comrade would be to risk his career- or at the very least, his reputable standing in the military- should the deception be revealed. Quite frankly though, Cem Fel was a good enough pilot to risk it, and Tal was reasonably certain that the Empire would have been far worse off at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong, were it not for his superior understanding of their ways and, Tal suspected, some underhanded coordination of tactics with his younger brother Jagged, and with their father.

Through those long years, as Tal rose higher in tactical command and Cem rose higher in starfighter command, the eventual admiral had dreaded the prospect of informing Soontir Fel that his son had been killed in combat, especially knowing the purpose of the secrecy surrounding the oldest surviving Fel child; but father and son alike had concurred that there were more important things than protecting the family line- things such as protecting the galaxy, for one. And in that light, Cem's death would have been difficult to bear, but understandable.

And so, years later, it was with blindsiding surprise that he found himself discussing the suspicious and mysterious disappearance of Cem with the young commander's family instead.

With assurances that he would acquire some additional informational logs requested by Soontir, Tal left the Myntox family apartment quietly and slipped inside his private airspeeder, piloted by his devoted and loyal aide, a young ensign recently commissioned after years of distinguished enlisted service in the Imperial Home Fleet first, and then in the GA Third Fleet.

Like a good aide, Ensign Goljern asked no questions about the visit, and with a curt nod of readiness from the admiral, maneuvered the speeder away from the private berth at the top of the building. As he eased the vehicle into a steady stream of traffic, however, Goljern uncharacteristically initiated a discussion.

"Sir, I-"

"A moment, Uliah," Tal murmured as he scrolled through his schedule- an admiral's work was never truly finished, even on a 'relaxing' furlough- and entered a brief note to himself to pull the records Soontir had asked for. "Ensign, remind me later to-"

"_Sir_." Tal blinked and looked up and over at his driver. "You received a priority communiqué while you were inside."

"Oh? From whom?"

"Admiral Reige, sir. He's requested your presence at the Imperial Palace in Ravelin."

The admiral frowned lightly but thought little of it. "Uliah, the Supreme Commander does not _request_ anything; if it sounded like he was, that was just his aide-de-camp being polite about it."

His dry humor was lost on Ensign Goljern- for reasons that became immediately obvious. "Sir, his aide didn't request your presence- _he_ did."

"The admiral _personally_ did?" Goljern nodded and swallowed heavily, clearly still affected from his brief contact with the most important person in Imperial space, both politically and militarily. "And you didn't relay the transmission to me immediately?" he demanded.

If possible, his aide's eyes widened even further. "He, ah… told me not to, sir. Said that you should take care of your important business first and then meet with him at your earliest convenience. Honestly, sir."

The implications of that took a moment to catch up with Tal, but he found himself stiffening in his seat and his jaw tensing as he thought it through. Reige knew he was on Bastion, and that was no surprise- it was a matter of documented record. For him to suggest he was taking care of 'important business' however… not even Goljern knew the nature of his visit at the Myntox's apartment and he certainly did not know of the connection with the Fels. It was conceivable on some level that Reige would be aware of the fact that Soontir and Syal Fel were in the Empire, though Tal was sure that they had traveled as discreetly as they dared…

So what did Vitor Reige think he was doing on Bastion?

"Well, Ensign," Tal kept his voice low and even, not betraying any of his sudden consternation, "it's an hour to the Palace; I suggest we not keep Admiral Reige waiting any longer than necessary."

X-X-X-X

_Ossus_

"When is dad coming home?"

Suppressing a sigh- Naviin had asked the same question every other day since Jag and Ashik had departed from the forested world a week ago- Jaina set a cup of juice on the table for her son and some fizzwater for herself before sitting heavily in her chair and staring across at her son's serious hazel eyes. "We've talked about this, Navi- I don't know."

"Is that why you're so upset?"

She closed her eyes and tensed slightly before attempting a half-smile for Naviin's benefit. "I'm not upset. I just don't like your father being gone any more than you do."

"He's gone to Corellia before to visit his family when you've stayed here to teach, and you weren't so bothered then," he pointed out logically, and Jaina, for the thousandth time, wished she didn't have Force-sensitive children with astounding abilities of perception and painfully keen awareness of her feelings and moods. "Won't you at least tell me the _real_ reason he left?"

So that's what this was about.

Jaina sighed. "Navi, there are some things you have to understand about dad's family, and the way that dad grew up; his parents have lived on Corellia since around the time you were born, but before that-"

"Grandpa worked for Grand Admiral Thrawn?" Naviin finished, eyes bright and excited. Jaina frowned. "Everybody knows _that_," her seven-year-old son drawled. "And while he was serving Thrawn, _your_ parents were fighting him, which makes it sort of funny that you and dad got married…"

"Right," Jaina said slowly. "Well, it's all a bit more complicated than that, but in principle… yes. Thrawn died when dad was just a little boy though, but his parents stayed out in the Unknown Regions with the chiss who served him, and your dad and his brothers and sister were raised in the ways of those people which were… drastically different to how he would have grown up on Corellia, I expect." She swallowed thickly. "Your dad lost two brothers and a sister before I even met him."

Naviin looked appropriately subdued. "Oh."

"Look, Navi- there's something we've never told you because it hasn't really been necessary until now- but your dad has one other brother, named Cem. But hardly anyone knows that and it's a big secret outside of our family, do you understand?" He nodded, wide-eyed. "Well, Cem's been flying with the Empire since he was just a teenager around Leyla's age, and even I've only met him once, right after you were born…"

"After dad and grandpa were released from prison by the Chiss?"

For a long moment, she didn't answer and looked away, staring blankly at the far wall. It wasn't the healthiest way of handling things, but generally forgetting about those long and painful months was the way Jaina had dealt with them since- but she and Jag had always known that Naviin would have questions one day.

But damn him for leaving and instigating those questions in his absence.

"Mom?"

She smiled tightly. "Navi… dad and grandpa weren't just imprisoned while I was pregnant with you. We- the Jedi, even the rulers of the Ascendancy- were told that they were dead. For nine months, the galaxy thought they were dead, and Cem was one of the ones who helped find them and bring them home again."

Part of her cringed inside and, had Naviin been just a year or two younger, she'd have been much more hesitant to tell him this and to tell it to him so matter-of-factly, so bluntly. He had grown up an affectionate but oftentimes shy, sensitive child, who for a long time had born his own residual effects of those traumatic events, unbeknownst to him really. Jaina had been in various stages of depression and apathy towards life in general during those long months and, for a Jedi with a Force-sensitive child growing in her womb…

She sometimes wondered what would have happened if Kyp hadn't taken careful and stubborn care of her through it all.

Naviin was seven now though, pushing eight- and while her mind was stuck on the unpleasant past, it was the same age Leyla had been when she was kidnapped and held for two months by a renegade Imperial faction of Force-trained apprentices who were neither Jedi nor Sith, while they tried to essentially overthrow the new order of things that had arisen in the five years since the Yuuzhan Vong war. With everything going on now though, it seemed as though she and Jag would just have to accept that Naviin was growing up as well.

"So why is dad gone now?" Naviin finally asked softly.

She sighed. "Because your uncle Cem went missing a few weeks ago, Navi, so your dad went with Ashik to see if they could learn anything about what might have happened to him. And… it worries me because they're starting in the Chiss Ascendancy while your grandparents are on Bastion. And the last time your dad was in Chiss space was when he disappeared. You understand?"

Tears welled in his earnest eyes, but Naviin nodded gravely and focused his attention on drinking his juice, giving her a temporary reprieve from his too-frequent and too-observant questions.

At least Kyp and Gennevi were due to arrive in a few hours- it would certainly take his mind, and hers hopefully, off of such serious matters, if only for a little while.

X-X-X-X

_Bastion_

Admiral Tal Nhylatich was led silently into a small but comfortable conference room near the office of the Supreme Commander, bade sit in an overstuffed arm chair, offered any of several options of refreshment- both with and without alcohol- and then was left to sit on his own for a few minutes while the admiral concluded a conference comm with his cabinet and the Moff Council.

Peering with half-hearted interested around the room, Tal vaguely admired the furniture of a dark and deeply stained wood, the comfortable seating, and wondered in the back of his mind where he would be in his life right now had he _not _spent the past six decades in military service. The musings were short-lived though- the idea of not serving the Empire had never factored into his young mind and at the age of seventy-five, he couldn't really imagine a more fulfilling life.

Also ceasing his thoughts was the sound of the door beginning to slide open, and Tal rose smoothly to his feet and stood at a stiff attention. "Good afternoon, Admiral…"

Six decades of military service prevented him from stumbling over his words, though a slight pause betrayed his surprise.

"…Pellaeon."

Grey and wizened, the retired admiral and head-of-state moved a bit more slowly than he once did, but carried himself with no less authority than he had at the height of his command. Dark eyes glanced over Tal with something akin to wryly subdued amusement before he waved his hand and directed the younger admiral to a seat, sinking carefully down in a chair of his own. "Tal," Pellaeon, "let us speak openly with one another…"

"Sir, I wonder if we should wait for Admiral Reige?"

A faint smile touched the elderly man's lips. "He won't be joining us, Tal, I apologize for the slight deception. But I think this matter would be best handled if isolated from the current leadership, don't you?"

He blinked. "Sir, I-"

Pellaeon held up a hand. "Tal, don't insult me. You've executed a deceit of impressive longevity, but anyone who looks too carefully into Commander Antell's history who has an inkling of common sense could probably figure it out, in light of recent events. And so," he held up a datacard, "here is what I am willing to offer you."

There was a bitter and dry taste in Tal's mouth, but he merely nodded dumbly.

"First, this datacard contains all- and I mean _all_, taken straight from the planet-wide database- planetary departures and exit vectors from Bastion in the days between Antell's visit to his sister and brother-in-law and the day he was due back with the Third; it is narrowed to craft which are operable with crews of three or fewer, with especial preference for such craft with the cargo space and capability of also carrying a fighter the size of a Chiss Clawcraft. Secondly," he slid the datacard across the table between the two, "the commander's records have been altered in the archives- he has resigned for health reasons and retired to his home world of Ord Trasi, where he also took his lengthy leave some years ago to tend to an ailing parent."

The sinking feeling in Tal's gut was heightening. And sure enough…

"Thirdly- you are to resign your commission in the Galactic Alliance Defense Fleet."

So that was it then.

"And which point, you are to take command of the Imperial Home Fleet instead."

He blinked. "Sir?"

"Admiral Reige concurs with my assessment that the Empire needs a greater voice in the Galactic Alliance chain-of-command, given the recent turmoil that has plagued the GA politically. Reinstating a head of state into the Defense Fleet seems an apt way to accomplish this, don't you think?"

Tal nodded mutely.

"And so you shall trade positions with Admiral Reige, and shall act as his proxy closer to home if necessary."

"Yes, sir," Tal finally managed. "Sir, if I may- Admiral Reige, does he…?"

It seemed as though Pellaeon was choosing his words carefully. "Vitor's knowledge of all that has passed between you and Commander Antell is strictly theoretical, and I should like to keep it that way- I think you understand. And Tal- unless it should betray a sworn confidence between yourself and Baron Fel- might I inquire as to Commander Antell's true name?"

He hesitated only briefly before deciding to extend his trust to the man who had probably just saved his career, the man who had led the Empire through decades of both turmoil and peace, had brought them through the Yuuzhan Vong invasion and helped forge a stronger galaxy at the end of it…

"Cem, sir. His name is Cem Fel."

X-X

As Gilad Pellaeon watched Tal Nhylatich depart the private conference room, he wondered if he would notice that the records on the datacard had been remotely sliced and altered, and then decided that it was unlikely. The bigger question was whether Baron Fel would notice it, and for some reason, despite his long disassociation with the Imperial Fleet, it seemed wholly more likely that he would.

Though what any of that meant, in the end, was anyone's best guess.

Because someone _had_ altered those records, without even raising a warning flag in the system, without tripping any of the standard security encryption alarms- and that was worrisome enough in and of itself, from the perspectives of Pellaeon and Reige. But what heightened the level of intrigue to whole new levels wasn't the skill of the slicing itself- it was the skill of the slicing combined with the fact that, not only had the evidence been left behind that it had occurred… but there was no indication that any measures had been taken to conceal it in the first place.

And in the mind of the best strategist seen in the Empire in the past three decades, that meant that someone was either trying to warn them- or someone was merely demonstrating their ability to toy with them.

X-X-X-X


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_Ossus_

It took two hours for Kyp to find a moment to get a word in quietly with Jaina, but he finally managed it after dinner while Naviin dragged Gennevi ahead as they meandered towards the temple to visit with Luke and Mara and see Kyp and Gennevi to their quarters for their two-night stay on the forested world before returning to their semi-permanent abode on Coruscant.

Sensing Kyp's almost-accusing looks for most of the evening, Jaina kept her attention steadfastly on Naviin as he babbled on about his early studies with the youngest Jedi students and spoke excitedly about when he would be old enough to have his own quarters in the temple- something Jaina and Jag decided he could do at ten years of age, a year younger than Leyla had been, but Leyla had grown up on Coruscant and hadn't had as much exposure to the temple in her younger years as Naviin. Not to be deterred, however, Kyp meandered along behind while Naviin and Gennevi continued on, so he could talk to Jaina privately.

"Don't tell me he's done what I think he's done."

"Don't start, Kyp."

"Did Jag learn _nothing_ eight years ago?"

"I said don't start!"

He pulled her arm and forced her to stop walking, and she let out an impatient huff and met his stare coolly. "Jaina, just give me a straight answer- did you lie when you told us that he went to Bastion with his parents?"

"I couldn't very well say that he went to Csilla in front of Gennevi, now could I? The truth about Cem isn't my secret to tell, Kyp- it isn't yours, either, I might remind you."

"Who went with him?"

"Ashik. Soontir and Syal really _are_ on Bastion, and they really are visiting with Wyn, regardless what their primary agenda is in Imperial space."

He smiled drily. "Is that supposed to reassure me that I'm only telling my wife a half-lie?"

"_I'm_ telling your wife a half-lie," Jaina returned sharply. "Just don't say anything about it."

"Jaina, you're a knot of tension and frustration- and I think you're angry with him."

"I'm not…" she fought for words and then stalked forward another ten paces before she whirled on Kyp again. "Fine," she snarled, "I'm angry. Once again, I'm left behind to take care of the kid, and this time it's worse because I'm _expecting_ something to go wrong. But what am I supposed to do? Soontir and Syal have lost half of their children, and the whole family has a sense of duty and loyalty towards each other that I sometimes think surpasses that which Wyn feels towards Syd, or Jag feels towards me and Navi and Leyla. And that aside- how can I tell Jag that I don't want him to go look for his brother who looked for him? How do I tell him I want him to stay with _me_, who accepted his 'death' without question and chose to wallow in self-pity instead of at least seek answers that could have led me to him that much faster?"

Kyp stared at her for a long moment before she turned away angrily and continued walking. He matched her pace and spoke quietly, conscious of the fact that Gennevi had noticed their mild altercation. "Been bottling all this up for a week now, huh?"

"You have no idea."

They entered the temple ten steps behind Gennevi and Naviin, who waited for them before continuing to the turbolift that would take them up to the upper levels where Luke and Mara kept quarters. Gennevi shot him a questioning look as they stepped inside, but he should his head minutely and glanced down at the top of Naviin's tousled-haired head. His wife of one month nodded slowly, and Kyp began to wonder if Jaina was wrong; chances were, he'd end up having to force a few half-truths to Gennevi on behalf of the Fel family which had more secrets it seemed than a bothan running for public office.

X-X-X-X

_Karfeddion_

If the planet- the spaceport, specifically- of the planet Karfeddion was anything to go by, Leyla began to realize just how right Vulcor probably was about visiting Yetoom Na Uun. Outwardly, Karfeddion was… tolerable. Parts of it, on approach, almost seemed pleasant, visually. But there was an air about the planet, and an even stronger one about the spaceport, that just left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was that combination of outward opulence with a sense of unseen darkness… suffering even. And it was pervasive throughout her senses, across the world that was ruled by the highest of the remaining so-called 'Ancient Houses'- through several of whom, Leyla supposed, she was descended, with a princess for a grandmother on one side and a baron for a grandfather on the other.

But she liked to think that there was a reason that her family was now generally removed from this sort of nobility, as she glanced wearily around for the associate consul or some such who was to meet and guide her around. The old noble houses who had sequestered themselves in the Senex-Juvex regions were the sort that tended to cling to the old ways, and to cling to their own superiority above all else in the galaxy.

And having made her first stop already on the planet Asmeru, home to the oldest and noblest of those families, the Houses Vandron and Elegin, Leyla was beginning to see that firsthand.

"Jedi Solo-Fel?"

She turned slowly to face the regal-looking woman with cool indifference, though she did manage to force a tight smile onto her face. "Yes?"

"Our consulate on Asmeru called ahead to alert us to your coming, and we have been instructed to show you every possible courtesy during your stay." Leyla vaguely wondered what sort of courtesy she might receive had they _not_ been instructed otherwise, and then filed the question to the back of her mind for future consideration. "I am Lady Vyhian, assistant consul in the local office. Consul Yoreti tells us that you have an especial interest in the import-export culture here on Karfeddion?"

"That is correct," Leyla answered her, ignoring the skepticism obvious in the woman's demeanor regarding the Jedi's age and experience. "In particular, I'm interested in goods that are, perhaps, making their ways out of the sector either unbeknownst to those in charge… or perhaps merely unhindered."

An indulgent smile that was pure poison graced the woman's lips. "I'm sure you'll find that we take such economic matters quite seriously, Jedi Solo-Fel, and any… goods… of the Senex Sector that are finding their ways into Galactic Alliance space are the work of pirates originating inside your own borders, coming to prey on our affluent shipping and trade routes."

Leyla's expression matched that of Lady Vyhian with near-perfection. "Then it seems, either way, that there are some improvements that might be made on the system, wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course."

"Then that is why I am here," Leyla assured her as graciously as she could muster, in light of the continued sense of condescension she was still getting from this vile woman.

"Come then," Vhyian instructed her in a commanding manner that made Leyla feel like she was back at the Jedi temple on Ossus, being instructed through a new lightsaber technique, "let us sojourn to our offices back at the consulate, and you may see our shipping logs for the past three months." She turned and led the way from the hangar bay and through the spaceport which was still giving Leyla an uneasy sensation. "And should that prove inadequate to suit your investigatory requirements, you may file a formal request for the logged records for whatever duration of time past you feel would be satisfactory."

"I appreciate your assistance," Leyla said sweetly, all the meanwhile grinding her teeth so loud she was sure that Lady Vhyian could hear her. "I'm sure that we can all get through this quickly and painlessly."

X-X-X-X

_Csilla_

"Do you ever miss it?"

Jag looked around, startled, pulling himself out of his deeply immersing work of simply… looking through his family's old home. He had never lived there for any significant amount of time, only on visits to his parents and formal diplomatic trips when he was serving as envoy and later as ambassador between the Ascendancy and the Galactic Alliance. No, he had grown up in a far less-friendly environment, in the Hand of Thrawn fortress on Nirauan until the age of twelve when he had finally been granted leave to attend the military academy on Rhigar, some years behind his peers but eventually surpassing them and winning their trust, their loyalty, and their allegiance in the coming days of war.

The family estate on Csilla was- had been- pragmatic, efficient… sizeable without being grandiose. Wynssa had lived there through her early teen years into her young adulthood, and Jag suspected that she'd enjoyed it more than she'd ever let on, considering her oft-brought up grudge with her parents for strongly pushing her to stay out of military service after the deaths of Davin, Chak, and Cherith.

There were only so many times a father- even one as militaristic, one as duty-bent as Soontir Fel- could send his own children off to die in combat. Some years after the fact, on a night of rare openness for his father, he had intimated to his younger surviving son that he had been almost positive, sending him first to Ithor and later to Hapes during the Yuuzhan Vong incursion, that either time would be the last he saw of him, that he would have to live with the knowledge that he sent yet another child to war and death.

Instead, Jag had found something else in the New Republic, or what remained of it- something wholly unexpected, wholly confusing, and at-times, wholly infuriating.

He'd found Jaina Solo.

And after a mutual smitten intrigue- as smitten as one raised and trained among the chiss ever got- they had parted ways for nearly two years and when he'd found her again on Hapes, she'd changed, was hurt and angry, had skirted the edge of darkness after witnessing her younger brother's death while suffering the disappearance of her twin. It wasn't until much later that he'd learned the full extent of her pain, learned just how damaged and betrayed she was by another- by a friend, a mentor… by a lover. By Kyp Durron.

Nearly twenty years later, bygones were bygones of course, but there had been times… especially in those early years… when Jag needed to take a step back and relax himself around Kyp, remind himself that Jaina had forgiven him his transgressions, was able to separate the Kyp who was seduced by the dark side, who had hurt her- twice- from the one who doted upon and adored Leyla, the one who had gone to extreme measures to find his kidnapped daughter, the one who had done everything in his power to protect Jaina when she was pregnant with Naviin and while Jag was trapped in the hellish reality of knowing that his wife believed him dead.

Bygones were bygones, but in honor of the Jag who would have gladly killed Kyp Durron twenty years ago if it would have helped Jaina recover from the pain he caused her, a part of him deep down derived a slight satisfaction from the memory of slugging him upon his return to Ossus after Ashik, Cem, Zekk, and Tahlia had found him and his father alive and well after so many months. The larger part still regretted the misunderstanding that had led to the assault, but he couldn't help it if a small aspect of his inner conscious self chose to remember that Kyp hadn't always been the good father and good friend that he was today.

"Do I ever miss this house? The Ascendancy? The Chiss?"

Ashik looked warily around the cluttered room. Eight years of disuse had left its mark on the estate and poor weather, wind, and simple cold- all to be found in abundance on the Ascendancy capital world of Csilla- had damaged the building and left some parts open to the environment. Consequently, both Jag and Ashik were fully bundled in thermal suits as they sifted through the remains of Soontir and Syal's former abode. "I was thinking about the Ascendancy," Ashik confessed quietly, "though I suppose you spent little time in it, in the end."

"True," Jag murmured. "Sometimes, I miss the order of things, the elaborate simplicity, if there can be such a thing. Everything, everyone, has its appointed purpose, its appointed place in society- at the cost of individuality and innovation, perhaps. And even growing up in the Hand…" he trailed off and looked away a moment before continuing. "I understand why my parents did what they did, I understand why my father felt the need to serve Thrawn, with a threat like the Yuuzhan Vong lingering around the corner- but I would not wish such a childhood for Leyla or for Naviin. Then again," he added softly, "if I'd never left, I don't suppose I'd know any difference."

"If you'd never left, you would not have the family you have today."

He chuckled ruefully. "A fair point. And what about you, Ashik? These are your people; you have sacrificed much on behalf of my family. Do you ever miss it?"

Ashik hesitated. "Often enough."

"Do you ever regret it?"

"Never."

X-X-X-X

_Coruscant_

It was a small collection of senators, but growing every day, who met at the retreat near the only above-ground body of water on the entire city-planet, though the 'Great Western Sea' was not particularly great, nor was it truly a sea. The artificial reservoir had once been a prime spot for tourists who wanted to feel like they were in an exotic new place but did not have the time to actually travel to a comfortable resort world. Over the generations of the Old Republic, the area around the sea- just like the area in and around the Manarai Mountains to the east- had become prime spots for politicians and other affluent figures who needed to remain close to their offices to build, buy, or rent vacation space.

Now, of course, the Manarai Mountains were little more than an afterthought to the Yuuzhan Vong takeover of the planet, and several of the artificial islands which had once housed the most luxurious getaways on the planet had been destroyed as well. But seventeen years after the reclamation of Yuuzhan'tar as Coruscant, the tourism and retreat culture around the Great Western Sea was raging full-force again. Indeed, cleansing the sullied water had been a top- but publicly unacknowledged- priority for many of the planet's wealthiest returning inhabitants.

After all- millions of beings may have been suffering all around them- but who was it to deny a relaxing getaway to those who helped alleviate that suffering?

The meeting spot was chosen for its remoteness from the Senate District, but also because it was _not_ entirely isolated. The Sea Resort was a popular destination for those with the means, and the senator hosting this meeting- the senior senator from Gyndine, Polla Essada- certainly had the means.

"Friends and colleagues," the lithe female spoke in tones that were just slightly abnormally low, the only betrayal of the fact that she was only _mostly_ human, "these are unpleasant circumstances which call for our meeting in secret like this, but rest assured- we are not traitors, we are not _rebels_," there was a smattering of chuckles among those who, some forty-five years ago, had been just that. "We are senators of the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances, senators elected to represent our respective home worlds, senators who have a responsibility first and foremost _not_ to our fellow public servant, but to the people who chose us to best represent their views, to best fulfill _their_ needs."

A low murmur of assent punctuated the pause in her introductory speech.

"Today, we welcome two new friends and, let me here assure them both that the acceptance of our invitation is not an obligation to rally to our cause. It is not even a pact of secrecy, though discretion is, of course, appreciated. It is merely a means to discuss our concerns, to contemplate whether the Galactic Alliance is _truly_ heading in the best possible direction.

"I would like to introduce the junior senator of the Ithorian remnant, Senator Ryoqim," she smiled at the towering brown-skinned figure who held his hands clasped before him, a look of deep concentration and mild consternation on his face, for any who understood the facial expressions of that race. His eyestalks twitched slightly as he glanced around at those assembled, the movement possibly one of simple observation, or perhaps one of nervousness despite Senator Essada's assurances of the benevolence of those assembled.

"Secondly, I would like to introduce the senior senator of Chandrila, Rihl Berrat." An elderly man with hair long turned grey stood slowly and inclined his head towards Essada before carefully resuming his seat.

Essada glanced around the room, ensuring all eyes were on her before continuing gravely. "It is now one month since the secession of Sullust, a move that shocked us all- even the Sullustan delegation- and pushed this collective into faster action. It is seven months since the secession of Rodia, five months since the secession of Falleen. And in light of these sudden and inexplicable departures from the comfort of the collective security offered by membership in the GA, we here have reluctantly been forced to contemplate the question:

"Is Ferrin Belotab the right man to lead us through this tumultuous period?"

X-X-X-X


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_Yetoom Na Uun_

A mingled series of emotions raced through Leyla's mind as she set her StealthX down in the indicated hangar bay and began her post-flight check with her astromech; the droid carried the nickname 'Fate' after the last two characters of his serial number: F-8. Fate was pretty new, he had been a gift from Luke and Mara when she was Knighted nearly two years ago. Before then, Leyla had simply made due with full manual controls, but she suspected that her father in particular was uneasy about the idea of her flying around on her own. It was perhaps only natural though that her mother and stepfather would be less concerned, given how young the two of them had been during their military careers.

And even if Fate was just a droid- and she was positive that either Artoo or Threepio would take offense to such a phrase, should either ever hear her utter it- it was nice to have some form of company during those long flights. Unfortunately, Fate could provide little insight on her current state of conflicting feelings regarding her decision to travel to Yetoom Na Uun after all, upon leaving the planet Knores where she had met with the very kind, very helpful, and all-too oily Duke Viholn. Indeed, it was Viholn's mention of having briefly encountered Vulcor some five years ago that brought to mind his demand of her to avoid the disreputable and infamous planet of the Senex Sector.

She knew Vulcor was just trying to look after her, but it still rankled her that he would attempt to control her mission like that. And then she stopped and vaguely wondered how she would have felt had her father, or even her great-uncle Luke made such a stipulation to her going and, as she honestly contemplated it, didn't think it would have bothered her as much coming from one of them.

The implications of that fact flitted around her head for a moment before she firmly shut the door on the whole line of thinking and, as though to emphasize her seriousness on the matter, she punched the manual canopy release and then twisted around in the cramped cockpit to reach the small storage box behind her seat where her lightsaber remained stashed away while she traveled. "Power down the ship, Fate; keep yourself on standby," she murmured before pulling herself out of the ejection seat and sitting on the edge of the matte-black fighter and turning around, clipping her lightsaber to her belt as she slid gracefully and dropped five meters to the duracrete hangar floor.

Glancing around, the first thing Leyla noted were the signs in Basic and a few languages she didn't recognize directing all incoming traffic to the customs booth to pay docking fees and for information on the planet. The fact that this place- more of an open-secret shadowport than anything- expected people to submit to a full customs inspection before leaving the spaceport told Leyla a lot about just how open the secret was- and that far too many of the officials and nobility she'd spoken with in the past three weeks probably knew precisely where and what this place was. And that was, of course, a slave world.

But for all the tip-toeing around the term during her travels among these self-centered and self-righteous peoples, it still came down to the fact that Vulcor had been right. The Senex-Juvex region had remained autonomous through the vast majority of recent galactic history, in much the same manner as the Hapes Consortium- through economic isolation and strong militarism when need called for it. They were fortunate enough here to have been overlooked by the Yuuzhan Vong, though Leyla wondered how isolationist they would be today had that not been the case. Their military strength was fierce but small, in the grand scheme of the size of the Yuuzhan Vong fleets, of the size of the Galactic Alliance Defense Force.

But if the Houses pooled their resources, they could probably put up a decent fight against any one or even two of the GA fleets though.

She wore an anonymous black flight suit, but pulled a plain dark cloak from the travel case in the lower storage compartment of her ship, pulling the hood up over her dark hair and keeping her face in shadow. Closing the compartment with a snap and checking her utility belt for her comlink and lightsaber, she turned and exited the small hangar bay and, with a dry smile, headed in the direction of 'customs.'

And then she slowed marginally as she passed the open door to the hangar bay two down and across from her own as a tingle raced across her spine. It wasn't a sense of danger; more of… being observed.

Displaying no outward sign of her awareness of the attention, Leyla drifted against the close wall and checked her cloak discreetly even as beings of a dozen different species passed her by on the way to or from their own ships. She made her way to the counter and stepped to the back of the short line and waited until she was summoned forward by a grimy and bored-looking middle-aged man. He glanced up at her, paused, shot her another skeptical look, and then asked dully, "Bay number?"

"Y-Eight-One-Four."

He input the information in a computer and then scowled slightly. "Fighter craft?"

"De-militarized," she lied smoothly and smiled sweetly. Few people outside of the military or the Jedi order would recognize the full power of the weaponry on a StealthX anyway.

Looking as though he was unsure whether to believe her, he just shrugged and tapped his screen. "It's a two-hour wait on an inspections crew," he informed her. "Once your personal effects and vehicle are cleared, you'll receive authorization to leave the spaceport provided you sign the appropriate waivers and-"

"Or," Leyla said firmly, "I'm guessing I can just slip you an extra few-hundred credits and get my authorization _now_?" He blinked up at her, expression skeptical once more. "How's three-hundred?"

"You got that kind of money, girlie?" She fought the urge to grimace at the name and just smiled winningly at him. His eyes shifted. "Five-hundred."

"Four-hundred and I'll forget you called me 'girlie' should our paths cross when I head out again."

Maybe he was smarter than he looked. Reading the deadly seriousness in her eyes, he swallowed and nodded before tapping his screen a few more times and then reaching for a coded chip which he passed under a scanner and handed to her across the counter. "Enjoy your stay."

Feeling a faint sense of satisfaction at her ability to at least appear threatening to the local yahoos, Leyla stepped away from the window and followed the signs along the wall to the spaceport exit. She passed the chip under the proper scanner, waited for it to flash her clearance and for the guard to wave her along, and she stepped out into the dusty daylight of Yetoom Na Uun.

"Smooth move in there."

Her sneakiness apparently could have used some work, however. She spun and eyed the young man who was leaning casually against the dirty wall by the door, watching her with poorly-veiled amusement. "Yours was smoother, it seems," she recovered from her surprise and wondered how he could have made it out ahead of her. A slow smile touched his features which were handsome in a rugged sort of way. Several days of facial hair growth made it difficult for her to accurately guess his age, but she still suspected he was under thirty. A thin scar ran below his left eye and under his ear, disappearing into his hairline.

Filing his appearance away for future reference, she turned again and continued walking down the crowded street, no clear destination in mind besides ditching her pursuit. Pursuit, however, was not to be deterred. He hurried alongside her and spoke nonchalantly close by her ear, as though they were friends or at least old acquaintances. "A brave girl, to come to a place like this all on her own."

She rolled her eyes, though the hood of her cloak hid the action. "A brave _boy_ to be following me," she returned sharply.

And much to her chagrin, he chuckled lightly and remained steadfastly by her side as they passed shady tapcafs and restaurants, and mechanic and maintenance shops for those having ship troubles or needing spare parts before leaving Yetoom Na Uun. "Oh dear, and I've already made you angry," he sighed. "Perhaps you'll just relieve me of an arm with that handy little light-sword of yours…"

He trailed off abruptly as she ducked down a side alley and dragged him with her before shoving him against the wall of one of the buildings. "What do you _want_?" she hissed, keeping an eye on the steady stream of passersby to ensure that no one noticed their little altercation.

His demeanor shifted abruptly and became suddenly serious; the jovial twinkle left his eye, and he straightened and met her eye steadily. "Your attention- do I have it?"

"Obviously."

"Good. Because I think we can help one another, Leyla Solo-Fel."

Denying her identity would have been awfully petty at this point, she supposed. "And if I don't want your help?"

"Then you run home, file your report, and leave Senex for the next sorry soul to declare a lost cause."

"And what is it that _you_ want?"

He sized her up for a moment. "A mutually beneficial goal, I think- I want _you_ to help me determine who it is who wants me dead."

For a long time, Leyla just stared at him, looking undoubtedly foolish in her incredulity before she finally managed, "Who are you?"

A faint smile touched his lips. "I am the Baron of Korezhia, high-born son of Knores, second generation removed from the House Araba, third removed from the House Pilor, and fourth from the House Elegin; in the common man's vernacular, that makes me the ascendant prince of the House Viholn and heir to the holdings of that family on Knores. But you can call me Ta'yen."

X-X-X-X

_Sullust_

"You didn't tell me that Niuk Niuv was part of this whole parade," Han grumbled as the _Falcon_ maneuvered into the grotto-like opening of the half-underground public docking bay. Given the toxic air of Sullust's surface, they would still need breath-masks between the ship and the turbolifts that would take them down into the lower levels of the tunnels, but it was greatly preferable to being forced to wear the masks all the time.

Leia nodded indulgently and shot a wry glance to Lando over her shoulder. "I apologize for not paying closer attention to the local politics on Sullust, dear, what with Jedi training, Jedi Knighthood, family gatherings…"

"Fine, fine, you get a pass on this one. I'm only saying though- with worms like Niuv influencing society, it's no wonder this place is on a steep decline." In the chair behind Leia, Nien Nunb began chittering away quickly. "Exactly," Han commented idly as he swung his precious ship around to her final position before setting her down smoothly. "When the locals start running off to places like _Kessel_, you know you have a problem."

"Hey now," Lando frowned, "Kessel's a changed place, Han ol' buddy."

"Tell that to Kyp," Han muttered, conceding the fact that his weeks spent in the spice mines paled in comparison to the nine years Kyp had been there. "Anyway, the point is that- whoa," he leaned away as the comm speaker burst to life and the fast and unnaturally high-pitched tones of a sullustan flight controller filled the cockpit. "You're on, buddy," he unfastened his crash-webbing and gestured Nien to the chair so he could speak on comm. While he did so, Han pulled Leia aside and wrapped her up in a gentle embrace. "You take me to the nicest places."

She pecked his cheek and grinned cheekily. "You flew us here, flyboy."

"Maybe I'll just relax on the way out and let _you_ be captain."

Her answering smile was wicked. "Maybe _I'll_ just relax and let Lando and Nien fly the _Falcon_…"

She laughed quietly but delightedly at Han's answering scowl and Lando's exclamation of 'Hey!'

X-X-X-X

_Csaus_

If going through his parents' old house on Csilla had made Jag wistfully reminiscent, then carefully picking his way through the abandoned estate of a high syndic of the Inrokini family made him bitter and angry. Ashik had expressed his reservations against returning to the place where Jag, Soontir, and Formbi had spent nine infuriatingly tedious months confined, but in the absence of any indication that Cem had ever returned to Csilla, Csaus seemed like the only other reasonable prospect for any sign of what had become of him- of course, that only assumed that his disappearance somehow tied in to the actions undertaken by him, Zekk, Tahlia, and Ashik while searching for the Fels, as Jaina seemed to think it did.

Ashik had disapproved, but their contact- a nephew of Formbi- had passed along what they would need to access the place and informed them that it had not been reoccupied by the Inrokini family. Instead, it was left empty and desolate, a reminder of the shame brought upon them all by the actions of one rogue syndic.

Csun'abr'inrokini had not endeared himself to anyone through his actions. While a growing number of chiss at the time had expressed discontent with the Fels' presence in the Ascendancy and with human representation in the Galactic Alliance, it was a very small minority who had actually sought their demise in the process. And by merely imprisoning them- at the cost of the rest of his father's crew aboard his Corellian Corvette, Jag remembered bitterly- the syndic had firmly established himself a criminal in the Ascendancy and had also condemned a number of the co-conspirators to discovery by leaving the evidence of their treachery intact.

And like a coward who has just realized that he's estranged any and all powerful friends and allies, Csun'abr'inrokini fled once he was discovered, once it became apparent that Cem, Ashik, Zekk, and Tahlia were coming for him.

Perhaps it was wrong to say that he hadn't endeared himself to anyone- if nothing else, Jag was grateful that the syndic had chosen to run, rather than take the extra few minutes to first execute his captives.

"How fares the House Inrokini today?" Jag idly asked Chaf'reen'inyi who walked by his side, hand resting on his charric holstered at his side. Behind them, Ashik made no pretense of concealing his caution, and carried his weapon as his glowing eyes darted into every shadowed corner.

"Better than the Chaf family, politically speaking," Freeni returned with a trace of sardonic humor in his voice. Indeed, with the death of the elderly Formbi two years prior, the Chaf family had been downgraded from Ruling Family status given the lack of direct lineage in Formbi's descendants. "Then again, they will never fall from power, much as the Nuruodo family will always claim dominance on their own sector of society."

Jag's brow furrowed- the Nuruodos had a firm hand in military matters, but the Inrokinis had controlled less-vital aspects of the economy, he thought. "Is there no other poised to take control of the communications industry, should the Inrokini line be broken?"

Freeni's smile was sly. "Not communications, Master Fel- science."

"Science?" he repeated skeptically. "I don't remember anything about that."

"Because, Master Fel, your family did not possess the power in the Ascendancy during the early days of the great invasion that you would later hold. By your time, the project was ended; failed."

Jag swallowed. "Alpha Red."

"Even the Ascendancy has its dirty secrets," Freeni admitted shrewdly. "The ability to wage war outside our borders was, perhaps, revolutionized by your Mitth'raw'nuruodo, but he by no means held the monopoly on it. Did you never wonder where the pathogen came from? Such a thing could never be publicly approved by the Ruling Families as you well know."

"Then who commissioned it?"

The chiss shrugged. "_I_ do not know. Perhaps no one does. But it was the Inrokinis who purportedly developed it and delivered it to the scientists of the Republic." His sly smile became an almost feral grin. "As the story goes, once the project was destroyed and deemed a failure, the family had all of the scientists who worked on it summarily executed- for their failure or for their silence. Possibly both." He paused. "No, the Inrokini family has more hidden secrets than just a single traitorous syndic."

That much was becoming painfully obvious.

"Come on," Jag muttered, "there's nothing here. Let's go."

X-X-X-X


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_Sullust_

Whatever Han and Leia were expecting out of a meeting with Niuk Niuv, the actual experience was, frankly, surreal. Gone was the hotheaded and loud-mouthed senator of twenty years ago- a senator with whom Leia had clashed all-too-frequently in the days of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion due to his stolid anti-Jedi attitudes- and in his place was a harried, hassled, distracted being who was, perhaps, just as rude as ever, but less confrontational about it.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Nah," Han waved aside his protest with a dangerously charming smile, "Sullust is a great place for a little getaway, a little time to ourselves, if you know what I mean…"

Niuv tapped at his datapad twice before sliding it inside a drawer of his desk and slamming it shut. Leaning forward on short arms, he stared balefully up at Han who, even sitting in an abnormally low chair, still towered above the minister. "Do not even begin to think that I don't know precisely why you are here, Captain Solo, Jedi Organa Solo," he turned and fixed her with a narrow-eyed stare. "And to be honest, I am surprised that Chief Belotab would stoop as low as to send the two of you running around the galaxy to do his bidding-"

"Ferrin did no such thing," Leia interrupted him firmly. "And for all that we may have clashed in the past, Niuk, I hope you can trust that, even removed from politics these days, the interests of the Galactic Alliance still occupy a significant place in my heart." He hesitated and then nodded reluctantly. "And part of that interest extends to a system that has been a long-time ally of the Alliance, of the Republic, and of the Rebellion before."

"And your interests undoubtedly extend to a system that manufactures a significant portion of the militaries of all of those bodies you name…"

"Yes," she admitted bluntly, "and it should concern you as well that losing the contracts with the GA will devastate Sorosuub and will, in turn, destroy the economy of Sullust."

His large eyes blinked slowly, expression unreadable. "Then that is the concern of Sullust; not you."

"Yeah," Han quipped, "we could see just how taken the Sullustan people as a whole are with the whole thing on our way in. Did you know you have all kinds of people out there protesting as we speak…?"

"No, it had quite slipped my notice," Niuv returned sarcastically. "Leia," he turned back to her almost reluctantly, "I cannot help you save to reiterate that you should _not_ be here. Leave Sullust to the Sullustans and you go back and tell the Jedi to keep their noses inside their own boundaries. My assistant will see you out."

"Niuk…"

He held up a hand. "I'm sorry; I've no more to say." He pressed a button on his desk. "Asul?"

A young female stepped into the office and stared with wide eyes at Han and Leia until they reluctantly stood. "You know how to reach me," Leia said resignedly, nodding her head once towards the minister who remained sitting stiffly behind his desk.

"A pleasure as always," Han added, earning a reproving look from his wife. Together, they followed Asul from the office and wound their way through the twisted corridors that were built into the naturally-formed caverns beneath the world's surface. As they exited the complex of offices, however, Leia finally gained her bearings enough to recognize that this was _not_ the way they had entered, something she quickly pointed out to their guide.

"Maintenance in the main corridor," she responded stiltedly.

Han frowned down at her. "Already? We were just in it forty-five minutes ago."

The sullustan did not answer and, instead, palmed open a door that led to a gigantic underground cavern where hundreds- possibly thousands- of sullustans and even a few humans were gathered with signs. Many yelled or chanted, and more than a few carried signs depicting the logo of the Sorosuub corporation that was the primary source of planetary revenue for Sullust.

"The tunnel straight across will lead to a forked intersection- take the left and the next right, and you will reach your ship. Do not forget your masks."

"You mean we have to go through-?"

But she was gone.

Han and Leia glanced at one another, shrugged, and then blended as best they could into the crowd that thankfully had its attention focused in a different direction from the tunnel through which they had emerged. Drawing hoods up over their heads- given the minority of humans present, it didn't seem wise to draw even _more_ attention to themselves- they began to carefully maneuver their way around to the back of the cavern where they could cut across with a bit more ease.

They were halfway across the back wall when, with a surprising lack of forewarning in the Force, Leia felt someone grab her arm and yank her back into a shadowy alcove. It only took Han an extra half-step to realize what had happened, and he spun and reached for his blaster. The figure waved a hand and the blaster turned to the side of its own accord and, in that moment, a sudden surge of awareness- and realization- struck Leia, even as Han began to bring the weapon around to bear once more.

"Han, wait…" she pulled her arm from the stranger's grasp and took a step back to peer up into his hooded face. "_Zekk_?"

Han goggled for a moment before glancing around warily and stepping into the alcove behind Leia. "Force, kid… where have you _been_?"

"Leave Sullust. Don't come back."

They stared at the tall young man. "Zekk…"

"Han, Leia, if you were only to trust me _once_ in your lives, let it be now. Leave Sullust alone. If you truly care about the Sullustans, you will get back on your ship and you will leave, and you will stop asking questions. Do you understand?"

"You gotta give us more than that, kid," Han scowled, but Leia read the deadly earnestness in Zekk's voice, his expression, his demeanor; he radiated urgency in the Force.

"We understand," she cut Han off and he gaped at her in surprise. "But Zekk… everyone has been so worried…"

He glanced out into the crowd impatiently. "I know; I'm sorry. But we can't come back yet. I'll leave the decision to relay this meeting to your judgment of discretion."

And then he ducked out of the alcove and, as he faded into the crowd, so did her awareness of his Force-presence.

X-X-X-X

_Bastion_

Soontir placed the call in the middle of the night while his wife, daughter, and granddaughter were asleep; his son-in-law was with the Home Fleet in orbit around the planet, and would not have another day free to come planet-side to see his wife and daughter for another two days. By that time, he wanted to be ready to leave again for a short investigative trip off-world.

"Father," his youngest son's tired visage appeared on the holoscreen. "Is it obscenely early there too?"

"No, just obscenely late," he informed him drily. "You are back on Csilla?"

Jag glanced pointedly at the chrono on his wrist. "For a few more hours, anyway."

"Very well. Jagged, when you reach Bastion, I won't be here anymore. I need to make a side trip before we return to Ossus and Corellia. It should only hold our departure two days, maybe three. Will Jaina forgive you the extra time?"

His son stifled a sigh. "Grudgingly, to be sure, but she sounded relieved when we last spoke to simply know that we'd be leaving the Ascendancy shortly. Father, where are you going?"

"I cannot say openly, Jagged. But it is something I must do alone. If I shouldn't be back within three days of your arrival, you are to proceed home without me and have Ashik take your mother to her brother's even if you have to force her."

"Your words are most comforting, father."

"Do I have your word, son? Three days."

The sigh escaped him that time. "Yes, sir."

X-X-X-X

_Senex Sector_

Leyla stared at Ta'yen Viholn with a mixture of incredulity and amusement plastered across her face. For his part, he looked defensively stubborn as he waited for her reaction. They sat in a small but comfortable lounge space aboard a moderately-sized cargo hauler- with Leyla's StealthX in tow- that she was willing to bet was far better armed than her initial and cursory glance-over suggested.

"You're pirating from your own people and you wonder that they want you dead?" she finally asked.

"Wrong," he countered evenly, "I don't wonder at all that someone wants me dead, I simply want to know _who_ specifically has already attempted to kill me." He gestured to the long scar that disappeared across his cheek. "Learning who is funding the illegal traders will probably provide my answers."

She quirked a brow. "Why didn't you ask the assassin who he was working for?"

"Dead men tell no tales."

"Ah."

"You see my dilemma?"

"Quite clearly." She cast about for a moment, trying to organize and sum up her thoughts. "So in essence- you've been running your own personal campaign against the underground trade routes using the taskforce accorded you through your rank and station in life- a taskforce that is primarily derived from elements of the Viholn defensive force at large- and _somehow_ someone found out about what you're doing?"

"My people are very loyal," he argued. "Those I did not trust were sent back to the larger force."

She considered. "And your family?"

"Untrustworthy to the core."

"And they never wonder where you've gone when you leave Knores to meet up with your taskforce?"

His smile was brittle. "Jedi Solo-Fel-"

"Leyla."

"Leyla, I am an heir to disreputable people with far too much money and logic merely follows that I should be a disreputable noble following in their footsteps."

She frowned. "I'm not sure I follow…"

"Yetoom Na Uun," he said pointedly. "Or do you mean to tell me that you truly do not understand what that place is, what happens there?" A slight flush rose in her cheeks but she shook her head. "It is not unusual for one with the means to disappear for a week or two at a time."

"Stress relief, if you will?"

A mirthless chuckle slipped past his lips. "Something like that."

Leyla sighed heavily and shrugged wearily. "I'm not sure what help you think I can be. It's not that I don't want to help you," she added hastily, "I think it's great that you're challenging the system and all. But unless I come with you to Knores…"

"That wouldn't work," he told her bluntly. "You've been to Knores, people know who you are. Trying to draw out my enemy with a Jedi in tow seems like a poorly-contrived strategy at best."

"Concealing my appearance wouldn't be _that_ hard."

His lips quirked. "And then what?"

"What do you mean?"

"I come back from a lengthy absence with a young woman- how old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty. Almost," she added grudgingly.

"Twenty," he shook his head but did not comment further. "Very well- I come back from Yetoom Na Uun with a twenty-year-old in tow, someone no one has seen before, assuming we hide your face- Leyla, the assumption will be that I've bought you."

The sheer ridiculousness of that idea made her laugh, though Ta'yen was completely serious. "Come off it," she regained her composure, "that's absurd."

"I live in a remarkably patriarchal society. Even the wives of the wealthy do not appear publicly with their husbands. And unmarried young women in a public setting are there for display, nothing more- _especially_ when it comes to the men of the nobility."

She frowned, considering her prior visit to Knores. "That's hardly true; I met with your father and he had female guards with him."

"They aren't guards."

"Then what- oh. _Oh_. Oh…."

"You see my point now?"

She forced a grimacing smile. "Got it."

X-X-X-X

_Wild Space – Planetoid 5249125_

As he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, head bowed, gazing out over the jungle world below, he could sense Csun'abr'inrokini's approach through some innate sixth sense even before he heard the soft and slow footsteps of the other's booted feet. The elderly chiss drew alongside him and looked disinterestedly along his line of sight.

"I'm sending a team to Coruscant."

Csun'abr'inrokini drew a sharp breath and half-turned to face him. "They will be easily uncovered."

"By the time they arrive, the Galactic Alliance will have greater problems to worry about."

"As go the Bothans, so goes the Alliance?" the former syndic asked sardonically.

"Belotab will be gone within the week once news breaks from Torolis and Bothawui. No, the board is set Nabrin; our move is coming and we cannot miss it."

X-X-X-X


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_Coruscant_

Ferrin Belotab stared in slack-jawed disbelief at his chief of staff, whose forcedly monotonous voice betrayed his own shock as he read the report. The comm speaker on his desk buzzed and was entirely ignored by them both until his assistant in the outer office seemed to realize that her attempts at gaining her boss's attention would go unnoticed for the moment.

"Just- _wiped out_?" he demanded. "Just like that?" His voice rang hollow in his ears as Wynn raised his eyes to meet Ferrin's. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know, sir."

"An entire colony," he muttered faintly. "What is- was- the bothan population of Torolis?"

Wynn swallowed. "Around four and a half million." Ferrin closed his eyes and leaned his head back against his chair, willing himself to, next time he opened his eyes, find that he was any other ordinary citizen and _not_ the man sitting in this chair in this office. "Another million and a half to two million humans and negligible minorities of assorted other species," his chief of staff continued quietly. "No word yet on whether this disease has affected any of them, but the sector government is already establishing a strict quarantine around the planet- they don't want any chance of this spreading."

"How does a disease, something so fatal and instantaneous, just mutate on a moment's notice?" the Chief of State demanded wildly. "Four and a half million bothans don't just drop dead, Wynn! It doesn't work like that, biology doesn't work like that!"

"It is… possible, sir… that someone carried it- knowingly or accidentally- from a place whose population was not susceptible. And given the small size and high concentration of the population of Torolis…" he trailed away and sighed. "Until we can determine what it was that killed them, there isn't much we can speculate beyond that."

Ferrin ground his teeth together for a moment out of frustration of the fact that he was still him, was still sitting in the office and chair of the Galactic Alliance Chief of State… and of course, the fact that four and a half million bothans on Torolis were still dead. Taking a deep breath in a failed attempt to calm himself, he depressed the comm button finally and spoke stiffly to his secretary. "Get me the bothan leadership as soon as possible."

The twi'lek's almost nervous voice responded immediately. "Ah, yes, sir- they've actually been waiting for you for a few minutes now…"

"Send them in," he snapped, and then felt bad for taking out his frustrations on the poor girl. "Please."

Moments later, three solemn bothans entered the office smoothly and took up the proffered chairs in front of the desk as Wynn stood and crossed to one side of the room where he leaned unobtrusively against the wall. "Senator Fey'til," he addressed the oldest of the three first and then turned to the other two. "Senator Kro'nur, Ambassador Hay'lya. My sincerest condolences on this tragedy on Torolis. Whatever assistance the Galactic Alliance can provide…" he let the offer hang open while the junior senator and the ambassador glanced sidelong at the elderly senior senator, Fey'til.

Slowly, he got to his feet and extended a grey-silver hand to Ferrin, who took it a bit bemusedly. "We thank you for your concern and kind words," his voice was low and gruff. "I'm afraid we are here on other business, however."

Ferrin and Wynn exchanged confused glances. _Other business?_ What other business could a people with a sudden outbreak of a devastatingly deadly plague _have_?

Fey'til straightened and met Ferrin's eye determinedly. "Chief Belotab, at the instruction and on behalf of the Bothan Council on Bothawui, I hereby offer the formal resignation of myself, Senator Kro'nur, and Ambassador Hay'lya; and with it, announce the immediate secession of the Bothan Sector from the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances."

Wynn dropped his datapad; it clattered to the floor, the noise compounded by the stunned silence, and he didn't bother to pick it up.

X-X-X-X

_Ossus_

"I want Leyla out of Senex. _Now_." Luke and Mara exchanged a subtle glance; Jaina narrowed her eyes. "What?"

Mara spoke slowly, carefully, seeking the proper words. "Leyla has apparently, ah… gone off plan a bit in the sector. We can't call her back quite so easily."

Jaina stared. "Aunt Mara, if you're trying to tell me that my daughter has gone missing now too…"

"Not missing," Luke corrected hastily. "She's just gone… nearly dark. Her reports have been sporadic in the past two weeks and she indicated that reaching her would be difficult and attempts at doing so would be unwise."

"Were you going to tell me this?" Jaina demanded, staring incredulously back and forth between her aunt and uncle.

"Leyla is a Jedi Knight," Mara answered firmly. "As such, we need to respect her right to not have every move reported to her parents. We would have told you had it become a problem which, until now, it hasn't been."

"But Kyp knew."

"He's on the Masters' Council, yes," Luke confirmed evenly, and Jaina's eyes narrowed. "He expressed his view as Leyla's _Master_- not as her father- that he saw little cause for concern in the situation."

Jaina scowled.

"This probably isn't a good time to mention that you're up for elevation to Jedi Master?" Mara put in quietly.

Their niece's scowl deepened, and she paced agitatedly around the office. "Well concern or no, there are problems enough _here_ that I want her close by. And if you can't get a message to her, then I'll just _go_ to the Senex Sector and hunt her down."

Mara cocked a brow. "I thought you weren't expecting Jag for another two days?" Jaina stared at her blankly. "Naviin?"

"Can't you guys watch out for him until Jag arrives?"

They exchanged another look and this time it was laden with a bit of guilt. "We're going to Coruscant, Jaina," Luke said quietly. "It seems that Ferrin Belotab could use all the help he can get at this point. A small but influential group of senators is already calling for him to step down."

"Did he ship a vial full of Bandonian plague to Torolis?" Jaina rolled her eyes and took a steadying breath. "Okay… _kriff it_, I'm going to kill my husband," she muttered. "Okay. So I can't ask Kyp to go because you want as many Masters on Coruscant as possible right now, am I right?"

"If you think it's that important, we understand," Luke told her. "Though I'm not sure how well you'll endear yourself to Leyla by having her father drag her off of her first solo mission."

Jaina finally smiled faintly at that. "No," she conceded, "you're right."

"Leyla can take care of herself," Mara assured her.

"Oh," Jaina blinked up at her aunt in surprise, "I still want Leyla out of Senex, I just mean that sending Kyp after her would be a terrible idea." They both looked at her blankly. "I need to find Vulcor, excuse me."

X-X-X-X

When she located the young Jedi in his quarters, Vulcor seemed wary, as though expecting that her visit would be of an unpleasant nature. It was an instinctive reaction, she supposed, going back to the time almost four years ago when she had asked him to be her second-in-command on a mission to the Corellian system. The original mission had been scrapped when the Five Worlds Prime Minister was assassinated and, shortly thereafter, Leyla was kidnapped by the ex-Imperial Moff who had orchestrated her kidnapping as a little girl. Except the second time around, it had been part of an extreme ploy to seek revenge against Kyp, whose actions in finding and recovering the seven-year-old Leyla had effectively brought down decades of work and planning in order to seize control of the galaxy once more.

Moff Croyel's revenge had failed, at the cost of his own life- at Leyla's hands, though it had been a collaborative effort, really: Vulcor's efforts in the Force to help her overcome the debilitating effects of the drugs used to keep her groggy and unaware, and unable to effectively tap into the Force, had enabled her to gather enough strength to half-free herself from the restraints that held her and summon Ashik's blaster.

It was more than a year later that Leyla finally confided to Jaina and Kyp that she had killed Croyel in vengeance and not defense, though the man _had_ been fully prepared to kill her until moments before. But Jaina had not been overly surprised to hear it- the other three who were present for the encounter, Vulcor, Ashik, and Iella, were strangely vague when queried about Croyel's demise. Nor had she been surprised to learn that Leyla had discussed the matter with Luke and Mara shortly upon her return to Ossus for a month of recovery.

What _had_ surprised her slightly was learning that Jag had been her first confidante in the matter who had not been present for the event itself. Perhaps it had simply to do with the fact that he wasn't a Jedi, but Leyla shared a different sort of relationship with Jag than she had with either Jaina or Kyp. Most would attribute it to the fact that Jag was not a biological parent, but Jaina did not think that was a factor- at least not much of one. For the first seven years of her life, she had only known Jag as her father and, even after learning the truth about Kyp, was still primarily raised by Jaina and Jag.

During the month that Kyp, Gennevi, and Leyla had spent on Ossus following the events on Corellia, Kyp had pondered aloud to her his observation that Leyla had more of Jag in her than either himself or Jaina. She had to admit that Kyp had a point, when she remembered the hotheaded impulsiveness that could have defined either of her Jedi parents at her age.

Then again- who knew just what had inspired Leyla to drop off the grid during her mission? Maybe there was a little more Solo lingering beneath the surface than any of them realized.

When Jaina explained the situation, Vulcor sighed exhaustedly and shook his head. "Why am I not surprised?"

"About millions of bothans being dead on Torolis and political unrest on Coruscant?" she deadpanned. "Or about Leyla going rogue and dropping off the charts?"

"The latter," he assured her.

She huffed. "Well then you seem to know my daughter better than I do."

"Parents somehow manage to overlook the ways in which their children are exactly like them," Vulcor replied softly, and Jaina looked at him in surprise. He smiled wryly at her. "I understand that even one as duty-bound and serious as your husband once defied orders and convention to do what he thought was right."

Jaina grinned. "You sure that was the _only _reason?"

"Undoubtedly," he returned in affected deadly seriousness. The sparkle faded from his eye however as he regarded the older Jedi and frowned lightly. "Jaina, why is it so important to you that she return right now?" She hesitated. "I… I understand if there's something that can't be said, but… it's more than what's happening on Coruscant, isn't it?"

They stood in silence for a long minute until Jaina closed her eyes and leaned against the cool stone wall, passing a hand over her brow and exhaling heavily.

"Jaina?" He sighed at her distraught silence. "Jag hasn't been on Bastion all this time, has he?"

"No," she whispered. "He hasn't."

Vulcor bit his lip but pressed on. "He's been in Chiss Space, hasn't he?"

She looked up at him sharply. "How could you know that?"

"Leyla said he was with the chiss- Ashik- when I saw her just before she departed Coruscant. And I don't need the Force to see that you've been worried about him for the past month." He paused. "Jaina, what is going on?" He could see the conflicting emotions flitting through her eyes and across her face, could feel the turmoil in the Force- and he immediately felt guilty for pressing. "I'm sorry," he took a step back and ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. "I'm sorry. It's not my-"

"_No_," she stressed, opening her eyes, "I owe you more than this, after everything you've done for her." He went a bit pink but she stopped his protest before he could voice it. "Don't even try to deny it, you saved her life three years ago and you risked your own on her behalf when she was just a little girl. I trust you and Jag trusts you, and if you're willing to do this for us, then it's only fair that I explain why."

"You know that I'll go either way."

She smiled faintly and nodded, and then steeled herself. "Jag's brother went missing about two months ago; shortly before Kyp and Gennevi got married."

He nodded. "I see. And I take it that he went to…" he frowned and trailed away as he eyed her in confusion. "Does Jag _have_ a brother?"

"And there it is."

X-X-X-X

_Coruscant_

"What are you thinking?"

Gennevi glanced up at her husband and smiled faintly. He was newly returned from the temple and removed his cloak before taking up the armchair across from her where he bent over and began to unlace and remove his boots. His hair- longer than when she'd first met him nearly four years ago now- hung down to curtain his face, still more dark-brown than anything, but with enough grey in it to betray his age.

"I'm thinking that you have a few more grey hairs than when you left here four hours ago," she murmured softly.

His eyes narrowed in mock-anger before he chuckled. "Seriously."

"Seriously?" she considered. "Seriously… I'm thinking that I wouldn't want to be in Gavin's place right now. The Defense Fleet is about to see a major shakeup."

Kyp sighed and sunk down in the chair, closing his eyes and stretching his legs out in front of him. "Guess it's a good thing you got out when you did." She murmured her assent. "With Bwua'tu forced out, who's next in the chain to become Supreme Commander?"

She considered a moment. "I would guess Admiral Niathal, since Kre'fey is out too."

"You're right," he crossed over to the sofa where she sat and pulled her to lean against him, running a hand idly through her long blonde hair- not yet graying like his, but she was nearly a decade his junior. "That is a major shakeup. Maybe you should withdraw your resignation, go back to the Fleet; you're a good officer, they'll probably make you a fleet commander in no time…"

She slapped his arm lightly. "Trying to get rid of me already?"

"I just miss seeing you in that uniform."

Her brow quirked and a sly smile touched her lips. "I still have it, you know."

"Oh?" he asked interestedly. "Maybe you should wear it tonight."

"Where?"

His brows furrowed. "Where do you think? In the bedr- ow," he rubbed the spot that she had now smacked twice. "Right. Sorry. I'd hate to violate the sanctity of the official uniform of the Galactic Alliance Defense Fleet."

"You're shameless, Kyp."

"I've heard that one before."

Gennevi just shook her head and smiled as she curled up against him, reveling in the fact that the matters of the military were not her concern anymore. Given the fact that she'd spent just over twenty-five years serving in the Fleet, from the age of eighteen to forty-three, it was still a novel feeling, being so detached from it all. Periodically, she thought that she missed it- and then Kyp would return from a meeting with the Masters' Council or some such, and she'd completely forget the sentiment in moments. "What's happening with the Jedi?"

He let out a quick and wearied breath. "Jaina's out for blood, for one."

His wife cocked a brow. "Somehow, that doesn't seem all that newsworthy to me. She was wound pretty tightly while we were on Ossus." There was just a hint of question in her voice, but she had resigned herself three weeks ago to the fact that, whatever was going on between Jaina and Jag, it wasn't something that Kyp was able, willing, or comfortable sharing with her, though Gennevi was fairly positive that he knew what it was.

Kyp grimaced. "Well, now she's got me in her sights, I reckon- the Council got a message from Leyla about ten days, maybe two weeks ago that basically indicated that she was branching out a bit in her mission and would be difficult to contact at best for a while." Gennevi blinked up at him in surprise. "We've heard from her twice since, she's fine. Jaina _knows_ that she's fine even without a message. But with everything else going on, she wants Leyla to be reachable and nearby, so when she found out that we can't really contact her… and that I've known that for two weeks…"

Gennevi frowned. "Got it."

"Anyway," Kyp sighed, "since Jaina's pinned down on Ossus until Jag gets back, she apparently asked Vulcor to go figure out what Leyla's up to and hopefully drag her back. He is somewhat familiar with Senex, so it makes sense, but…"

"She's a twenty-year-old girl who's still trying to assert her independence in the galaxy?"

"Bingo."

Gennevi sat back and considered him for a moment before venturing into a dangerous line of conversation, when dealing with fathers and their daughters. "What's the deal with Leyla and Vulcor, anyway?"

The briefest flash of consternation shone in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "I don't know- they seem pretty close."

"They've known each other for a long time."

"He's a good bit older than she is, isn't he?" Kyp nodded reluctantly. "How old _is_ he?"

His lips pursed. "I don't know… thirty-one, thirty-two maybe?"

"And it doesn't bother you that Leyla is, ah… close… with a thirty-one-year-old man?"

His eyes narrowed and he hesitated. "Ah… no…?"

She smiled broadly, almost triumphantly. "Ha- you can't say anything, can you?" He scowled. "You were older than he is when you got involved with Jaina who was younger than Leyla is."

"Yes," he agreed, "and of course it bothers me that Leyla talks to _any_ grown males. However," he held up a single finger, "Vulcor _specifically_ does not bother me because, first, he is a far better man than I was and because, secondly, Leyla is far more pragmatic than her mother was. Besides," he added as an afterthought, "he'll screw it up."

When he didn't explain or elaborate after a few moments, she raised a brow curiously. "Sorry?"

"Jaina's been waiting for them to realize that they're soul-mates, or some such romantic malarkey- ow- for a good three or four years now," he explained reasonably, rubbing at the oft-abused spot on his arm. "But what she hasn't banked on is the fact that Leyla's maturity has outgrown Vulcor's hesitation. And he'll be so afraid of acting rashly that he'll wait too long and will drive her away in the process."

She stared. "You've just got this whole thing worked out, haven't you?"

"I spent the better part of two years in constant company with Leyla," he reminded her. "There's only so much she can keep secret from her father, even if she doesn't realize it."

"And the _real_ reason Vulcor doesn't bother you is because you anticipate that he'll alienate Leyla before they have any chance of realizing that they share a mutual affection for one another?"

"You got it."

She was quiet for a long moment, frowning at him. "You and Han are really very much alike, you realize?"

He smiled broadly. "Really?"

"It wasn't a compliment, in this case."

X-X-X-X


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Coruscant_

Ithorians, Wynn Dorvan concluded, were among the oddest-looking creatures in this galaxy. Mammalian, herbivorous, oftentimes utterly pacifist, the humanoids were deceptively large and powerful beings, with brittle yet strong, long fingers and hands. Though where their true but rarely-used power lay was in their vocal cords, strangely enough.

From what he understood-it was happily a trait which Wynn had never had the pleasure of witnessing or hearing- an angered ithorian seeking to cause maximum destruction could create sonic waves through their four throats and two mouths strong enough to shatter transparisteel at the very least and, at the worst, to shred plasteel.

It was difficult to imagine such deadly capabilities from the junior Ithorian senator, however. Senator Ryoqim was on the short end of his species, falling just shy of two meters, though he was easily tall enough to tower over Chief Belotab. Hands were clasped before him though, twisting slightly in an unmistakable gesture of nervousness as he met with the Chief of State.

"Senator," Ferrin smiled faintly at the Ithorian and motioned him to take a seat. "What can I do for you this afternoon?"

When he spoke, Ryoqim's voice rumbled deeply and seemed to reverberate for just a moment before the sound actually emerged, reflecting on the vastly more advanced vocal structures. "Chief Belotab, I am afraid I find myself in a bind, and have hesitated most cowardly in coming forth." Ferrin shot a sidelong glance at Wynn whose face betrayed no emotion. "Sir, there are factions within the Senate- factions growing every day- who have been meeting secretly, discussing the possibility of… well…"

"Impeachment, possibly? At the very least, a vote of no confidence?"

Silence reigned supreme in the office for a full minute while the Ithorian processed those words. "You are… aware of this?"

Despite the stresses of the past two days, Ferrin couldn't help but smile sincerely at the senator; he was fairly new to the office, had only been elected two years prior, and was seemingly unsullied thus far in the fierce and dangerous world of galactic politics. "Senator Ryoqim, you are too innocent for this business. At this rate, I should think the Senate were quite losing its touch if there aren't already at least a dozen of them jockeying to supplant me. And it is only logical that provisions be made for alternative action, should the calls for my resignation go unheeded."

His bulbous eyes, set unnervingly far apart on eyestalks that jutted out from either side of his head, blinked slowly, and rotated slightly to peer momentarily at Wynn, who stood by the transparisteel viewport to the right of the desk, regarding the meeting impassively. "Then… sir, do you mean to…?"

Ferrin held up a hand. "Please- Senator- it is probably for the best if this conversation not progress any further, lest you find yourself at odds with those who drew you into their confidence on the matter."

"But sir…"

"I appreciate your forthcoming on the subject. Rest assured that it comes as no surprise to me."

And with mild confusion and a bit of hesitancy, the ithorian senator left the office and Wynn took up a chair opposite his boss at the desk. Leaning forward on his elbows, he met Ferrin's eyes steadily and spoke lowly. "They have no grounds for impeachment."

"Then we may assume that it would come to a no-confidence vote."

"They have no grounds for that eith…" he trailed off and his eyes widened. "It _would_ come to a no-confidence vote?" he repeated. "Sir, you can't truly mean to resign now, when it will just throw more chaos into the system."

"The 'system' needs a leader to rally behind, Wynn. The system needs someone who will inspire everyone to work together, not someone they will now associate with the slow crumbling of relations with some of our oldest and staunchest allies. This is less about politics and more about perception."

Wynn frowned. "The two are one and the same, often enough."

The Chief of State crossed his arms over his chest, sat back, and considered the younger man. "Then you tell me what would be best here, Wynn. Do I fight for my elected office and see the Senate- that should be working on facilitating trust in light of all these secessions- tear itself apart regarding my removal? Or do I step down, allow for an emergency convention and election of a new leader, and help facilitate the next public election when my term would have otherwise been up? Bear in mind, Wynn, that in the event of the former option, the eventuality of me leaving office anyway is a strong possibility." Wynn was silent for a long moment. "So you tell me what to do."

"I don't know, sir."

A light smile crossed Ferrin's lips. "I know you don't. In truth, I don't either." There was a thoughtful pause. "I blame the Solos."

Wynn blinked. "The Solos, sir?"

"They're bad luck- I've been convinced of it for years. Jaina Solo turns up- within the hour, my wife is not only dead but a traitor; Jacen Solo turns up and the Executive Building is destroyed by a would-be assassin; Han and Leia Solo turn up and the Galactic Alliance starts tearing apart at the seams."

"It was already doing that," Wynn reminded him drily. "And I _asked_ Leia to meet with you."

"Then _clearly_ you have it in for me as well, Wynn."

He chuckled. "Perhaps they are not so much bad luck as… always in the thick of the trouble?"

"Then isn't the logical answer to run in the opposite direction as them?"

"Yes, sir," Wynn smiled. "So… hypothetically speaking… who would you _want _to succeed you?"

"How about Senator Ryoqim? Think he's up for the job?"

"No."

Ferrin grinned and then sobered, seriously considering the question. "How about Gilad Pellaeon?"

"Ninety-seven years old, sir. Also, that whole, you know- Imperial thing."

His boss snorted. "We trust the man to have total control over all of the firepower the Galactic Alliance can muster, but we don't trust him to wrangle a bunch of wily politicians. Ah well, you're right- he deserves his retirement. Hm- you, Wynn?"

"Not on your life, Ferrin."

X-X-X-X

_Trucemaker_

What had started out as a dull ache in Gavin Darklighter's left temple was slowly spreading through the rest of his head as more notices and memos came down from Fleet Command, each more convoluted, harried, and confusing than the last. In two months, the Defense Force had lost about sixty-five percent of its sullustan cadets, enlistees, and officers, and close to ninety percent of the bothan ones. The only beings of the aforementioned species- as well as Rodians and Falleens- who were not forced to resign following their home worlds' secessions were those who already possessed citizenship elsewhere on a world that was still part of the Galactic Alliance, Coruscant in most cases.

Sullustans and bothans were just two of the hundreds of beings represented in the Defense Force and in the Fleet, but they were disproportionately represented. Because of Sorosuub being based on Sullust, more sullustans than one might normally expect found their way into the military, especially in support roles as mechanics and the like. And given the long-lasting bothan pride in the Bothan Spynet and espionage, there were a significant number of bothans in Alliance Intelligence positions, including in the military.

And compensating for the sudden losses was a bureaucratic nightmare for Command. The problem was only compounded by the necessary shuffling of commanders in the Fleets. Cha Niathal would take over the Supreme Fleet from Nek Bwua'tu, leaving her Fifth Fleet open. Darklighter's Fourth Fleet was unaffected, as was Vitor Reige's Third Fleet and Matric Klauskin's Second Fleet, but Traest Kre'fey was also forced to resign from the First Fleet.

A competent captain, a bith named Ratobo, would be promoted to Admiral shortly and given command of the First Fleet, but Command seemed to be falling over themselves trying to find a suitable replacement for the Fifth. The most drastic possibility proposed- the one that was giving Darklighter a steadily worsening headache- was to fold the Fifth Fleet entirely, use its personnel to fill in the gaps of the other four fleets and the Supreme Fleet, and re-form it as the output from the training academies, and the promotion of a new Admiral, would allow.

On paper, it was a practical idea- which was probably why it was garnering so much support from the Senate's Naval Oversight Committee, comprised of beings who, for the most part, had never dealt with the military besides as statistics on a datapad. But for one who had spent as much time in it as Gavin Darklighter- about forty years now- it was weeks and probably months of disorganization and utter confusion. People would need to be moved; ships would need to be moved; some ships would need to be decommissioned; some ships would be swapped out for others that were in worse shape in other fleets, and arrangements would need to be made for those to be properly attended at their respective shipyards.

And then there was the fact that other shipyards- Bilbringi, Kuat, Sluis Van- would need to pick up the slack left by Sorosuub, who were no longer contractors of the Galactic Alliance Defense Force.

He supposed that it was a very good thing that the Galactic Alliance wasn't currently engaged in any major conflicts; any opposing force of significant size worth its weight could probably get the drop on them while the Oversight Committee was still looking for last year's recruiting data.

Ten more minutes of painstaking perusal of overly wordy messages from Command were blissfully interrupted by a tap at his office door. "Come in," he called, setting down his datapad with a bit more force than necessary. "Whatever it is has to be better than-" he paused, eyes widening almost imperceptibly before he regained his senses and got to his feet. "Admiral Bwua'tu. Why- what can I do for you?"

"For one," the graying bothan said drily, "you can stop calling me Admiral. Your next memo is probably going to inform you that to do so is treason against the Fleet or some such nonsense."

"Should you be here at all, sir- Nek?" he corrected with a pointed look from his former commander.

He flashed a grin that displayed his sharp teeth. "Undoubtedly not, but I still command enough respect to get by unnoticed when necessary."

"Of course. Please, sit. Drink?" Bwua'tu waved the offer aside, but took up the proffered chair. "So what _does_ bring you here?"

"I have just departed Coruscant and must meet with the Bothan Council on Bothawui before returning to my decidedly quieter home world in the sector." He regarded Darklighter carefully a moment. "Cha will be promoted next week."

He nodded. "I heard."

Bwua'tu's eyes narrowed slightly before he spoke again. "I recommended you for the position, Gavin."

A dark brow rose smoothly. "And I thought we were friends, Nek," he returned sardonically.

"You were my first captain after I earned the rank of Admiral," Bwua'tu did not smile at his jesting tone. "I have faith in your judgment, in your ability to see through a shroud drawn over your eyes." Darklighter frowned deeply. "But I'm afraid that, since the time of Pellaeon and given the lengthy term of Cal Omas and now Ferrin Belotab… most prefer to counterbalance the pervasiveness of humans in political power with non-humans in military power."

"Cha is a good leader."

"Yes, she is," Bwua'tu agreed. "You're a better one. But the NOC, those at Fleet Command… they see a Mon Cal in an admiral's uniform and the sweeping wave of nostalgia for the days of Ackbar drive everyone's passions in place of logic."

"I think you give them too little credit, to be honest. And Cha."

A faint, lip-curling smile showed a hint of teeth again, before Bwua'tu sighed and stood. "I should not stay any longer, and you undoubtedly have much work to do." They shook hands, Darklighter feeling a little lost in the conversation. Bwua'tu held his grip an extra moment though and met his eyes steadily. "Be prepared, Gavin."

A beat passed. "For what?"

"Anything."

X-X-X-X

_Ossus_

Up until the moment she actually saw him disembark from the first of two shuttles to touch down, Jaina was seriously wondering whether to be angry and relieved or annoyed and relieved to finally have Jag back after more than a month apart. The worry had eaten away at her through the long weeks, compounded by the lengthy absence of Leyla as well, and then later by the sudden upheaval in the Alliance with the Bothan Sector's secession so soon after Sullust's. It made her feel helpless, and Jaina hated not being in control.

But as soon as he stepped onto the ramp, and his bright eyes sought hers, and Naviin laughed and ran forward to meet him, she found, to her surprise, that she was simply relieved.

"Urgh," Jag groaned as he picked Navi up, "I think you've grown."

"No," the boy laughed, and then added, "Well… maybe a little." Jag put him down and he ran over to greet his grandparents who were already coming off of the other shuttle.

Coming forward slowly, his green eyes locked onto her brown ones, and there was a trace of trepidation there behind his own relief to see her again. "Hey," he murmured, pulling her slowly against him, enfolding her in a gentle hug. "I've missed you."

"Yeah," she managed, voice a bit thick. "Same."

"I'm sorry."

She pulled away and looked up at him seriously and a bit curiously. "Would you be sorry if your search had been fruitful? If you'd learned anything about what's become of Cem?" He looked decidedly guilty at her question. "Then don't apologize because it didn't; I'm worried about him too."

He hugged her tight against him once more. "You're too good to me."

"You know it," she smiled, and then leaned up to kiss his cheek. He quickly turned though to capture her lips and they kissed deeply, reveling in simply being together again, until Jaina noticed that Soontir, Syal, and Ashik were pointedly _not_ paying them any attention, while Naviin scowled in disgust.

"Ew."

Syal took his hand in hers and pulled him away. "Give it another ten years, darling."

"Ew."

Laughing, Soontir followed his wife and grandson as Navi led the way to the cabin he shared with his parents on the temple grounds. Ashik's amusement was more contained, but a slight twitch of his lips betrayed it all the same as he followed behind. Jag and Jaina, his arm slung around her shoulders, her head leaning against him, brought up the rear of the party, and they trailed several paces behind so they could speak softly.

"What is it?" Jaina asked, sensing Jag's struggle for words.

"I- maybe nothing. But probably not. I think father might have found something."

She stopped, turned, and stared at him. "What do you mean?"

He bit his lip. "He went off on his own for a couple days, wouldn't tell any of us where he was going when he left and won't tell any of us where he's been. I don't even know if he left Bastion. But all of a sudden, he wants to speak with Luke and Mara."

"_What_?"

"It's all he would say."

Jaina sighed.

X-X-X-X

"They aren't here anymore."

Soontir's brow furrowed a bit, though he did not look remarkably surprised to hear it. "They've gone to Coruscant?" Jaina nodded. "I suppose that is to be expected."

"If there's anything _I_ can help you with…?"

He smiled over at her but shook his head. "No, Jaina; I'm afraid it's an old matter between your aunt and uncle and myself. It can wait, however. We'll rest for a couple of days here, get caught up with what's been happening in our absence, and then Syal and I will detour to Coruscant on our way back to Corellia and-"

"We'll all go," Jaina interrupted. Jag looked at her in surprise and she drew a heavy breath. "The day after Luke and Mara left Ossus, I got a message from my parents who should be back to Coruscant by now as well. They were on their way back from Sullust and… it sounded like they had something pretty interesting to report. Besides," she grinned cheekily up at Jag, "I've apparently earned a promotion."

"Oh?"

"So you better not make me mad, I'll have _real_ authority soon." He smiled indulgently. "There's also the fact that Ferrin Belotab seems to be on the verge of either resigning or being forced out of office… oh, and I have a bone to pick with Kyp." Jag cocked a brow but didn't ask. "So I'll just send Vulcor a message to let him know that we'll be there instead for the next little while."

It was quiet for a few seconds while everyone looked at her, confused. "Vulcor? Is he not here?"

She smiled thinly. "No. As a matter of fact, he's off hunting down your daughter who seems to have gone rogue in her trip to Senex."

"_My_ daughter?"

"Oh, she totally gets this from you, Vulcor was the one who made me see it."

"_You_ were the one in Rogue squadron," he objected, and then looked to his parents for help.

Soontir just shook his head. "Sorry, Jagged- she's got a point on this one."

X-X-X-X


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_Knores_

The high-lord of Knores, more specifically known as the Duke Viholn, was hiding something. Indeed, he radiated the same contradictory nature which Vulcor had noticed in him when he was in the Senex Sector some five years ago. That journey had not been as specific, nor as purposed, as Leyla's assignment; instead, Vulcor's pass through the sector was a favor to the government, rather than the Jedi, who wanted periodic dialogues with the rulers of the sector to ensure that relations remained friendly, though the sector was not formally aligned with the Galactic Alliance- and probably never would be, in Vulcor's opinion.

The Duke Viholn was still as dangerously pleasant outwardly and viciously secretive inwardly as he had ever been- and the only consolation that Vulcor found in that fact was that his secretiveness had nothing to do with his presence on Knores and, consequently, had nothing to do with Leyla. If it had, the duke would have been nervous at the very least to find another Jedi on his doorstep.

No, he had his own internal affairs to deal with, and Vulcor had little doubt that a number of those dealings were shady at best. It wasn't his concern. What _was_ his concern was that he had tracked Leyla to Knores and now found himself at a loss. It was obvious from his first contact with Viholn that he was unaware of her presence on the planet, and Vulcor couldn't very well ask about her directly, lest he incur the wrath of the whole sector against the Jedi if Leyla was meddling in something she ought not to be- which Vulcor strongly suspected she was.

"I was quite surprised to receive your message," Viholn confessed as they strolled through the richly ornamented corridors of one of several royal palaces on the planet, this one in the capital city of Korezhia which sat on one of the beautiful red seas that made the planet a popular location for tourism, even from outside the sector for those with the means. "Two Jedi in a month? You'd think the Alliance was getting suspicious of our little corner of the galaxy."

Vulcor smiled tightly. "Purely by chance, I assure you. Someone found out I had business in your general direction and thought it might be pragmatic to reiterate our good faith from the Galactic Alliance- and from the Jedi- while I was passing through. As I'm sure you know, Jedi Solo-Fel's visit was more… business-oriented."

Viholn laughed softly as two guards opened a pair of doors leading to a partially concealed balcony that overlooked the sea beyond the palace. There was a table laid with several local delicacies, by the looks of things, and a servant with the green and gold colors of the Viholn house banded across the upper arms of his white tunic poured two glasses of a rich sienna wine. "I do hope you'll join me for a light refreshment, Jedi Vulcor?"

"Of course." His smile was becoming a bit fixed, he suspected, but Viholn did not seem to notice, or care if he did.

He awkwardly sat back in one of the chairs overlooking the water below while one of the servants prepared a plate with an elaborate array of the different foods, and another handed him the glass of wine. He desperately wanted to refuse the service, but sensed that this whole process would be faster and less painless if he just let Viholn have his way with things in the usual manner.

"Do you know Jedi Solo-Fel well?" Viholn asked him idly as yet another servant drew a curtain further around the balcony to block out the bright sun.

"I- yes, well enough."

"She's positively delightful," the duke commented. "Quite… passionate… about her work. I was sorry to see her leave so soon."

Vulcor attempted to keep his voice casual. "How long did she stay on Knores?"

"Just two days."

"That hardly seems like enough time to fully appreciate the beauties of the planet," Vulcor put in mildly.

He sighed wistfully. "Believe me, I tried to persuade her to stay longer, but she positively insisted on going straight about her work. Admirable girl."

Teeth gritted, Vulcor fought not to roll his eyes as well. It was no wonder Leyla hadn't stuck around longer, with Viholn talking about her like she was some sort of loyally devoted pet. "Did she not visit with any of your kin here on Knores?"

"Ah," the duke shook his head, "I'm afraid my son was away at the time- though he is back now- and I believe you met my brother, when you were last here…?" Vulcor nodded. "A sad thing- he was killed two years ago. Assassinated in his own home in Kahnsh."

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that."

"It hit Ta'yen very hard," Viholn said, not appearing all that distraught. "He was very close with his uncle- ah," he sat up straighter and glanced down over the railing. Vulcor followed his line of sight down to the portico below where a young man in a cloak of deep green with gold embroidery elaborately inlaid around the edges was entering the palace, the all-too-familiar entourage of servants trailing in his wake, though it was not nearly as large a group as the duke kept near him at all times. "My son is returned from the city, should you like to speak with him whilst you're here."

"Hm," Vulcor murmured distractedly, eyes following the group until it disappeared underneath the overhang and into the palace itself. He wasn't watching the prince though; rather, he was staring at the fourth figure in the procession, behind Ta'yen and two stoic guards. It was one of few females he'd seen about the palace; she was dwarfed by the sizeable guards in front of her, and a golden veil of shimmersilk concealed her face and largely covered her dark hair. Her outfit was elaborate- suggestive perhaps, without being revealing, clingy in strategic places but generally flowing loose over her body.

It didn't matter that he couldn't see her face, that he was ten meters above and looking down on her. It didn't even matter that he was a Jedi, he'd have known, without the power of the Force, that it was Leyla.

X-X-X-X

_Trucemaker _

Gavin Darklighter paced his office. It was late, most of the ship was on sleep rotation, save the essential operational crew, so there wasn't really anyone to bother him at this hour. But as he walked and felt like he was wearing a hole in the deck and would eventually just fall through to the level below, he kept replaying his conversation with Nek Bwua'tu in his head.

Strange at the time, the former admiral's words had only gotten stranger the more Darklighter thought about them over the next two days.

"_I have faith in your judgment, in your ability to see through a shroud drawn over your eyes."_

It had been a compliment of sorts, but what else had been masked in that simple sentence? As he thought about it, he realized that Bwua'tu had never given him a true reason for his detour to the Fourth Fleet.

"_I still command enough respect to get by unnoticed when necessary." _

_When necessary_…

Darklighter had been the recently promoted captain of the _Mon Mothma_ when Bwua'tu was made commander of the Fifth Fleet and took it for his flagship. Friends was perhaps not the right word, but they were comrades of many years, held a deep respect for one another for both their experiences serving together and for high-ranking positions within the Defense Fleet individually. Was it strange that two such beings should meet, following the retirement of one?

_When necessary_… was it possible that someone did not _want_ Bwua'tu to interact with him?

…_ability to see through a shroud drawn over your eyes…_

Could Bwua'tu have been giving him a warning?

"_Be prepared, Gavin." _

"_For what?" _

"_Anything." _

Yes, Bwua'tu knew something, but his hands were tied. Something about the current political upheaval? About the secessions of vital systems? Darklighter didn't know- but he needed to figure it out before the shroud was drawn and wrapped too tightly to escape.

Finally making up his mind after two days, he purposefully strode over to the comm console and pressed the button to begin recording. Taking a deep breath, he spoke evenly and lowly, betraying no emotion in his voice.

"Booster, I hope this message finds you well; don't respond to it. I'll be heading to Coruscant tomorrow to meet with Fleet Command and the other commanders to discuss the transition period. I'll be on-planet for one week from my arrival."

And he sent the message.

X-X-X-X

_Wild Karrde_

A fist clenched and unfurled twice before Talon Karrde calmed himself enough to address the two cloaked figures sitting across from him. To his credit, when he did speak, his tone was even and steady, and just a little harder than was his wont.

"You gave me your word."

"We gave you our word that we would do all in our power-"

"I gave you plenty of warning on Torolis," Karrde snarled, "and you assured me that you had more than enough resources to handle-"

Zekk held up a hand. "Stop. We knew about Torolis. We had to let Torolis go."

"Let it-! _Master_ Zekk," he bit snidely, "four million innocent bothans are dead because you _let Torolis go_. Do you realize that?"

"All war comes with sacrifices, Karrde. You should know that by now, you've certainly seen enough of them."

Karrde stared at him uncomprehendingly, eyes shifting periodically to Tahlia who sat stoically at the tall young Jedi's side. "Yes," he acknowledged quietly, "I have seen war and I have seen sacrifice- and death- firsthand, no matter how I might have tried to avoid it in the old days."

"Then you should know the folly of revealing your hand before the time is right."

"When will the time be right?" Karrde demanded. "When another million die? Ten? Twenty?"

Zekk's eyes flashed. "You cannot blame us for the actions of another, Karrde. Was it in our power to save the bothans on Torolis? Yes. But saving four million would have condemned billions on other worlds. So yes, Torolis was an acceptable sacrifice."

When he spoke again, Karrde's voice was soft but tinged with curiosity almost. "I have come to know many Jedi in the past four decades," he said, "and until now, I would never have believed that I would hear one utter such a thing."

"We are not here as Jedi."

"What are you then, Zekk? Tahlia?"

Emerald eyes met his piercingly. "We are doing what we must- for the greater good."

"For the greater good?" Karrde repeated in a whisper. "I see. I'm sure that's a fine consolation to the families of those who have died, those who you had the power to save and did not."

Zekk tensed, and Tahlia laid a comforting hand on his arm until he relaxed again ever so slightly. "We're all in this too deep to back out now," Tahlia spoke for the first time, her voice soothing after the hot exchange. "I'm sorry if you feel misled, Karrde- but the decision was not easy for us either."

A brow rose smoothly. "I do rather hope that is true. I'd hate to see one evil vanquished and replaced so easily with another."

"Go to hell, Karrde," Zekk said calmly, using the Force to summon the datacard that sat on the table beside the older man, and then standing quickly and stalking back to the docking bay, slamming his fist once against the bulkhead as he went.

X-X-X-X

_Coruscant_

"When do you announce?"

Ferrin sat back in his chair and sighed, passing a weary hand over his eyes. "First thing in the morning." He met the blue eyes of the Jedi Master and smiled wryly. "So what do _you_ think, Master Skywalker- am I doing the right thing by stepping down?"

Luke shook his head. "I don't know if there's a right answer to that question, Chief Belotab. Though I think your motivations are admirable, if nothing else. You have the concerns of the Alliance first and foremost in your reasoning, not personal gain."

"I do have some estimable role models to draw upon," Ferrin smiled faintly. "Your sister, for one." He paused. "I think she felt bad, that she was unable to produce any answers from her visit to Sullust."

As Luke thought about it, he realized that the Chief of State- for now- was right. All that the journey had done was elicit more questions, the most obvious of them being, of course, what connection Zekk had to Sullust and possibly any of the other suddenly disenfranchised worlds. Such concerns, however, had not been shared with Ferrin Belotab for obvious reasons, though Leia had reported to him on the rather bizarre meeting she and Han had with Niuk Niuv.

"Rest assured," Luke murmured, "the Jedi are still looking for those answers."

X-X-X-X


	15. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Sorry for the long hiatus, I was out of town. But now I'm back!

**Chapter 13**

_Ossus_

Feeling a bit sorry for Kam and Tionne- it seemed like everyone was fleeing the academy, with Vulcor in the Senex Sector and Jaina going to join her aunt and uncle on Coruscant- Jaina concluded her last lesson with some of the advanced sparring students who would soon begin their true apprenticeships. It was a silly sentiment, really- there were another dozen part time instructing assistants who would easily pick up the slack for a few days or weeks- and Kam and Tionne didn't seem fazed at all when Jaina went to bid them farewell.

Upon her return to the cabin, she found Soontir and Syal in the sitting room, but the place was otherwise empty. "Where are Jag and Navi? And Ashik?"

"They went to go check out the ships before we leave," Soontir stood so he could face her. "Naviin wanted to, ah- help."

Jaina grinned. "Sounds like me at his age."

"From what Han says- which is a lot, each and every time," Soontir allowed drily, and Jaina chuckled, "it sounds like you at half his age."

"I was very ambitious with a hydrospanner," Jaina conceded. "I was the mechanic, Jacen had his bugs and his animals, and Anakin…" she bit her lip and glanced down. "He was just curious, about everything. Adventurous. And really smart."

Soontir clapped her shoulder lightly and smiled down at her. "I'm sorry I never had the chance to know him, Jaina. From everything we've been told about him," he glanced over his shoulder at his wife, who was looking a little watery-eyed, "it is truly our loss."

Unable to find appropriate words, Jaina merely nodded and murmured her thanks, and then excused herself to finish putting together her travel case for the day-long journey to Coruscant. After she was done though, she laid out on the bed sideways, hands folded over her stomach, and just felt guilty for a while. She'd lost a brother- she still missed him constantly, felt the faintest pangs whenever Naviin did something that reminded her of her little brother, or when he would look at her in just a certain way and his expression reflected that of an uncle he never had the chance to know. She'd lost a brother, her parents had lost a son- but Soontir and Syal had lost two, now possibly a third, and a daughter.

It was a sobering thought, imagining going through the type of intense pain she'd felt for Anakin _three_ times. And with Cem, the not knowing had to be worse in a lot of ways than knowing something bad.

And as she lay there, she thought that losing Jacen would be almost unbearably painful- but would pale in comparison to the pain she would feel if something happened to either Navi or Leyla.

Being a parent was terrifying.

X-X-X-X

_Dawn's Folly- Interdictor Cruiser_

"I still think this is a bad idea."

"Of course you do, Csun'abr'inrokini. You are cautious in your old age, and despise the matters of the unknown."

"And you are just young and vital and full of expeditionary energy, I suppose?" An ambiguous smile answered him and he sighed. "How will they be traveling?"

"Separately- two ships."

"And you're _sure_ that they're heading for Coruscant? Once we are in Alliance space, we cannot tarry long, you realize…"

A patient look was shot his way. "Yes, Nabrin, the fact _had_ occurred to me. Matters could get… messy… if we are discovered."

"Matters are already 'messy' and you just want to add to them exponentially."

A comforting hand patted his arm lightly. "And _you_, Nabrin, are just frightened of the capabilities of a wrathful Fel."

"It is not an unreasonable factor to consider."

X-X-X-X

_Knores _

She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, scowling furiously, as the locking mechanism disengaged and the door slid open of its own accord. Five seconds passed before he slipped noiselessly inside the darkened room and the door slid shut behind him moments before she waved on the lights, making him blink his eyes in adjustment.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Leyla demanded, eyes flashing.

Vulcor glanced around the room, noting windows- and the fact that they weren't visible from any of them, much to his relief- and other possible entry and exit points. "I might ask you the same question," he responded shortly, looking pointedly around at the elaborately decorated bedroom that contrasted sharply with her plain black flightsuit that was a decided step down from the ensemble she'd been wearing earlier that day.

Her look was entirely incredulous. "You might? Well seeing as how you knew damn well that I was in the Senex Sector, I think my question has a little more grounds to it, don't you?"

"Oh, this is what you came here for?" he asked. "What are you, undercover for GA Intelligence now?"

Letting out a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and calmed herself. "Vulcor, Ta'yen is helping me and I'm helping him-"

"How are you doing _that_ exactly?"

"By keeping him alive," she bit. "Seeing as he's the only person in this godforsaken region with an ounce of common sense."

There was a fierce determination in her eyes, and he thought back to the duke's somewhat condescending words about how passionate she was about her mission. It was true though, he could read that much from her- and consequently, he knew that it would be that much harder to persuade her to return with him. "I see," he finally murmured. "I'm glad- but you need to come back now."

"_What_?"

He ran a hand anxiously through his hair. "Leyla, have you been paying any attention at all to what's going on in the GA? Politically, militarily…?"

She flushed. "When I have the chance."

"Did you know that Ferrin Belotab is about to step down as Chief of State? That the Defense Force Supreme Commander was forced to resign when Bothawui seceded from the Alliance less than a week ago?"

"Okay, I get it," she sighed.

"I don't think you do," he said frankly, and she flushed deeper this time, and began to get angry again. "Not only have the Bothans left the Alliance, but just before-"

"Vulcor," she interrupted him, "why are you here?"

He blinked and frowned. "Because you were unreachable for the Council to summon you back."

"No," she shook her head. "Why are _you_ here?"

He met her sharp look steadily. "Because your mother asked me to come and find you."

"Oh," she forced a laugh, "great. Well, I guess if mother wants me to run along home-"

"Leyla, stop," he said sharply, and she paused, eyes slightly wide, regarding him curiously. "You're acting like a petulant child. I'm sorry if you're feeling… embarrassed or something… but you're the one who went quiet on a mission without consulting the Council first. And admirable as I think it is that you've devoted yourself so fully to this task, there are other matters closer to home that are going to strain the Jedi in the coming weeks." He hesitated. "Also- Jag and his parents should have gotten back from… Bastion… a few days ago."

The brief surge of curiosity and concern in her eyes and expression was quickly quelled, but he understood. "Your mother didn't think they'd learned anything terribly helpful," he said softly. She looked up at him uncertainly. "She told me what was going on," he told her. "I'm sorry."

Before she could acknowledge his sympathy, Vulcor stiffened and then turned towards the door, hand reaching automatically for his lightsaber; Leyla put her hand on his arm to stay it. "It's fine," she said, and the door slid open a few seconds later, admitting Ta'yen.

Vulcor had met the young nobleman once during his earlier visit in the region, and had found him to be a pretty typical young man with extraordinary wealth and power- lazy, spoiled, and quite used to being waited upon. Looking at the same man some five years later though, he wondered whether age had matured and grounded him, or whether the bulk of what Vulcor saw of him when he was just a young man not much older than Leyla was now had been truly an act for his father's benefit.

The prince halted just inside the door, allowing it to close behind him, and frowned at the unexpected second person in the room. "Oh- hello..."

"Do you knock?" Vulcor asked mildly, looking between him and Leyla.

A sardonic smile crossed his lips. "It would not be expected." The Jedi nodded slowly, looked between the other two, and then around the room once more, taking in more than just the strategic exits this time. It was a small but lavish bedroom, far more richly furnished than he would expect for a room designated for household servants, as he assumed was Leyla's improvised role.

Or… oh. "Right," Vulcor closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"We've met before, haven't we?" Ta'yen considered him. "You were here several years ago, you met with my father."

"I did."

The nobleman pursed his lips and nodded. "Well, then I guess that's one piece of news that would be redundant," he said drily to Leyla. "I was going to tell you that I'd just gotten word that another Jedi was on Knores and… I assumed he was probably looking for you." Leyla scowled slightly but did not interrupt. He turned back to Vulcor. "I thought you returned to the city-proper."

"I did. I rented a speeder and came back after dark. I assumed that, since your father is unaware of Leyla's presence in his own palace, it is probably the way you wanted to keep it."

"Hm," Ta'yen murmured. "Do you think anyone saw you?"

"No," Vulcor replied frostily. "No one did. In the palace or out."

After a moment, Ta'yen shrugged. "Probably doesn't matter anyway," he turned back to Leyla. "I think I know who tried to kill me."

She stared, waiting for him to elaborate. "How? Who?"

"My force hit a caravan out of Karfeddion. A small merc fleet tried to ambush, and my cousin completely destroyed them- almost."

She cocked a brow. "Oh? Prisoners?"

"A few; enough," he amended. "Anyway, he learned that the same person who was paying the mercenaries was _also_ funding the underground trade between here and Hutt Space- and reaping the profits of course, until my taskforce started causing problems, and now that the Hutts are getting angry… well, I think you get the idea."

"…and? Who's been funding them?"

His smile was thin. "Who else? My father."

It was quiet for close to a minute. "Are you sure?" Vulcor finally asked.

"It really isn't any big surprise; he killed his own brother two years ago."

A sudden understanding surged through Leyla. "And that's why your cousin left Knores, isn't it? He can't come back?"

"He has always suspected my father's part in his father's death but has never had the proof. Leyla," he looked at her solemnly, "it's probably for the best if you return to Alliance space now. It can't be long before my father realizes that I've discovered him."

She blinked. "But… then isn't this a _terrible_ time for me to go?"

He laughed lightly. "Oh, you misunderstand me- I'm leaving too. I will join my cousin in waging our private war against the slave trade; and after today's events, they now have some three hundred beings to try to repatriate, and he'll need help with that."

"But… isn't there anything you can do about your father? Arrest him, or…?"

He smiled sincerely at her, despite the horribleness of the conversation that seemed to be completely beyond the young prince. "What is the use in trying? On Knores, my father _is_ the law, Leyla. And I won't lower myself to his level by murdering others in their sleep. Should he and I meet in battle… that would be a different story. But for now, I will concede that he wins this round." He turned back to Vulcor. "Where is your ship?"

"A public hangar bay on the far side of Korezhia; but the speeder is only a couple of kilometers from here."

Ta'yen glanced at Leyla, who nodded. "Very well- we'll drop you off and you can rendezvous with us at my fleet."

Vulcor looked between them in confusion. "Why?"

Leyla bit her lip. "I don't have my StealthX here, Vulcor."

He sighed. "Of course you don't. Fine. How far away do we have to go?"

"Not very; just a few light years off Karfeddion. Leyla can transmit the coordinates to your ship once we reach mine." He looked around the room. "Is there anything you need?" he asked Leyla. She shook her head and grabbed a small satchel, throwing it over one shoulder to keep her hands free. "Let's go then."

And he opened, not the door to the corridor outside, but the door that, Vulcor soon saw, opened into a large walk-in closet. "Uh," Leyla frowned, "where are you going?"

"Bolt-hole."

"In _here_?"

He smiled back at her. "Misdirection. The official one in my room- the room that once belonged to my father, bear in mind- is undoubtedly sabotaged. _This_ one is newer and he doesn't know about it."

She grinned, shrugged once, and followed. "Ta'yen, you're good."

X-X-X-X

_Coruscant_

Gennevi sighed as she watched the HoloNet News which had been covering little except the impending special Senate election of a new Chief of State for the past thirty-six hours, since it was publicly announced that Belotab would be stepping down. Once every hour or so, a brief note would be made regarding the ongoing efforts to stabilize the situation on Torolis, and that was usually accompanied by a note about Cha Niathal's ascension to Supreme Commander of the Defense Fleet.

It was only fitting, therefore, that the soft knock at the door of the apartment would come during one of the few and far between cutaways to discuss the military instead of the political spectrum. She stood to answer the door- Kyp had been at the temple all morning, and given everything going on, she didn't particularly expect him again until much later- and muted the sound on the holoscreen on the way. Pressing the panel to open the door, she opened her mouth to greet whoever it was- and then stopped, gaping foolishly in surprise for several seconds before she composed herself.

"Ah- Gavin?" The strangest thing besides the fact that he was at the door to her and Kyp's apartment was seeing him in civilian clothing. "Come in, come in," she backed away, frowning at the expression of deadly seriousness on his face as he crossed the threshold and the door slid shut behind him. "What… what are you doing here?"

His eyes betrayed the consternation he felt. "Gennevi," he avoided the question for the moment, "you're looking well. Is Durr-Kyp," he amended, "here?"

"No," she shook her head, "the Jedi are pretty well swamped at the moment." Darklighter nodded, and Gennevi directed him to the dining table, grabbing two glasses of water and sitting opposite him. "Gavin?"

He considered her a moment. "Congratulations on the wedding, Gennevi. I'm sorry I could not be there."

She smiled wryly. "I'm not sure I particularly expected you to be; might have been a little… odd."

"For me or for you?"

"For Kyp."

"Ah," a brow rose curiously. "Well that's hardly fair, is it? I'm sure Jaina Solo was there."

Gennevi grinned. "Yes, but the difference is that I've gotten to know Jaina- and her husband, and her children- quite well over the past three years. With me and you, Kyp's just left wondering how he didn't realize there was once something between us while he was with the Fourth Fleet for a month."

"Funny," Darklighter thought back, "Jaina was there less than a week and she had it pinpointed." Gennevi looked at him in surprise. "She asked me about you, after the situation with Leyla was resolved."

"What did you tell her?"

"The truth," he replied evenly.

She shrugged. "I never would have guessed; three years ago, I'd have bet that she would have told Kyp on her own."

"Not now?"

"I think Jaina and I have overcome whatever differences of opinion that made us butt heads early on. I still probably connect better with Leia and Mara, honestly, but we get on just fine." He was quiet for a long minute. "I know you didn't come to Coruscant to find out how I'm getting along with the Solos and Skywalkers," she finally said pointedly.

He chuckled softly. "I came to Coruscant to meet with annoying individuals in Fleet Command," he assured her. "I came _here_ to discuss something else entirely with you. And I'll just preface it by saying this: I don't expect you to lie to your husband, Gennevi," she started in surprise, "I don't expect you to keep secrets from him. But what I have to ask of you… might not be appropriate for consumption by the whole Jedi Council. So when I have very generally explained the situation to you, I want you to make a choice. If you don't think Durron would be willing to keep such a secret on your behalf, fine- I'll say no more and I'll leave, and what goes beyond this room, beyond us, will be up to your discretion. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she assured him softly.

He drew a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. "Gennevi," he met her eyes steadily, "I want you to train one more squadron for me."

X-X-X-X


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Korezhian Jewel – Near Karfeddion_

Vulcor docked with the small but deadly-looking assault cruiser; a _Vibre_ class, he thought, sleek, expensive, heavily armored and even more heavily armed- not something he wanted to find himself up against any time soon. He angled his craft carefully into the small hangar bay and set it beside Leyla's. She was standing there waiting for him when he leapt from the cockpit of his own fighter, and she turned and led the way wordlessly back through the ship to a small, private meeting room where Ta'yen was sitting with a man who Vulcor assumed to be his cousin.

When the two Jedi entered, the cousin nodded to them, exchanged a last quiet word with the prince, and then turned and left. Leyla sat, though Vulcor remained standing, arms crossed and impatient.

Ta'yen handed Leyla a datacard. "This is the most up-to-date information we have on the organized gangs and the trade routes they use," he told her quietly. "Lu'cen has made note of which ones we've had the most luck patrolling inside our borders, so perhaps when your Alliance gets things together again, you can look to the other routes on your side."

She pocketed the card and sighed. "I feel bad; in the end, I didn't really do much."

"You will," he assured her, reaching across and laying a hand lightly over one of hers. "There are few people in this galaxy who are truly willing to seek change where it is needed; I know that you will not forget all that you have seen here."

"The Jedi have no jurisdiction inside the sector," she reminded him ruefully.

"Then hopefully that too will change one day." Vulcor fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Is there anything else we might do for you before you go on your way?"

"Yes," Vulcor spoke up, surprising the other two. "Where is the closest place that's likely to carry replacement TibannaX fuel cells?"

Ta'yen's brow furrowed as he thought. "The _closest_- Karfeddion might. Your best bet though would be outside the sector on Eriadu."

"Great," Vulcor looked at him in exasperation. "Don't they consider Wilhuff Tarkin a martyr there or something? Burn Luke Skywalker in effigy?"

"Only on special holidays," Ta'yen deadpanned. "In all seriousness though," he looked at Leyla, "it's a major crossroads between hyperspace lanes so you'll just blend in to the crowds. Also, if you're looking to take a few hours or even a night to rest before continuing on your journey, I have a place you can go."

The older Jedi stared at him incredulously. "You have a place we can go," he repeated faintly. "You, who are soon to be a fugitive throughout the region, _have a place we can go_."

Ta'yen seemed unfazed by his condescension. "Money buys a great many things, Jedi Vulcor," he eyed him carefully. "Anonymity and silence not least."

"I'll remember that."

Leyla sat torn between amusement and mortification at Vulcor's uncharacteristic confrontational manner. Meanwhile, Ta'yen inserted a small chip into a datapad and tapped the screen several times. After a couple of minutes, he slid the chip back out and handed it to her. "The offer stands- this contains basic information about the planet, including where you can find your fuel probably- and the location of a popular tourist hotel where I have a suite you may use if you like. Should you so choose, the chip will be your identifying access. There are no names, no traceable information on the account."

"Thank you," she murmured, popping the computer chip into her own datapad and then sliding the whole thing into her pocket once more.

He stood and led the way from the room back to the hangar bay. Vulcor hopped to the wing of his starfighter after a curt nod to the younger man, though Leyla stood at the base of her ship for a moment with him. Vulcor could not hear the words exchanged between the two, but after a minute they shook hands and embraced quickly, and then Leyla was using the Force to hop up to the wing of her own craft and settling herself into the cockpit.

His astromech plotted their course to Eriadu and transmitted it to hers before they even finished the startup sequences. Glancing quickly out the transparisteel viewport, he caught Leyla's eye. She nodded once and then looked away before raising her fighter smoothly from the deck and maneuvering out into the deep space beyond.

X-X-X-X

_Coruscant_

Jaina stared at her mother in disbelief.

"Zekk?" she demanded, voice rather high-pitched. She glanced around to the door out to the sitting area where Han was chatting with the newly arrived Fels, and then turned back to Leia and lowered her voice when she again asked, "_Zekk_?"

Leia nodded solemnly. "It was a very fast encounter, he said very little- but he very clearly knew we were there and was very clearly waiting for us. And…" she hesitated.

"And what, mom?" Jaina prompted her.

She looked unsure. "It might have been coincidence- but Niuv's assistant led us very specifically to that doorway, almost as though she wanted us to blend into the crowd…"

"So…" Jaina frowned. "Zekk is in cahoots with Niuk Niuv?"

"Or with his assistant anyway," Leia said sardonically. "But he was very cryptic, very adamant that we leave, and very impatient to be on his way again."

Jaina sat heavily on the bed and put her head in her hands. "Tell me everything."

X-X-X-X

_Dawn's Folly_

Csun'abr'inrokini looked sidelong at his companion in silence for a few minutes as the time ticked down. Eventually though, he spoke up quietly.

"Has there been a… miscalculation?"

The other's silence continued for another minute as he sat thinking. After what seemed an eternity, he straightened and finally turned to speak to him. "There has indeed been a miscalculation. However… not necessarily a devastating one."

"Is it possible that we… were too late? Missed them?" the former syndic asked reluctantly.

"I think not," he murmured, "but time will tell. Leave me, Nabrin, while I attempt to see if the situation is salvageable- before Galactic Alliance space makes you too nervous."

X-X-X-X

_Eriadu_

"Don't look at me like that."

"…Like what?"

"Like you pity me."

A long pause ensued.

"Then don't feel so self-pitying." Her answering raised-brow look was sardonic and weary. "There was nothing else you could have done; Viholn is still alive, and that must count for something."

With a sigh, she slowed to a stop just before emerging from the hangar bay out onto the moderately trafficked Eriadu street. They both stretched out in the Force, looking for signs of anything unusual, but all seemed calm and they emerged out onto the pedwalk. "It does count for something," she conceded. "But it isn't enough."

"Leyla…"

She held up a hand. "I don't want to talk about this now; please."

Reluctantly nodding his head, Vulcor fell into step behind the young woman as they ducked down a couple of alleyways to find the street which held the Nebula Hotel, where they would relax and recover for a night before refueling and heading out again the next day.

A major hub for trade and travelers, Eriadu boasted an impressive host of lodgings, restaurants, and assorted entertainments for passers-by and visiting dignitaries and the like. As capital of both the planet and the sector, Eriadu City was the most notable place on the planet for such locations- which was why Leyla and Vulcor were in Phelar. Phelar was still big and touristy enough that they'd blend in, but it was enough off the beaten path to allow them to relax and breathe, if only for a moment.

The city may have been lacking in comparison to the capital; the Nebula Hotel, on the other hand, would have fit right in to some of the uppermost levels of Coruscant. As they approached, a steady stream of foot traffic entered and exited the building, carts of luggage either floating by on repulsorlifts or being pushed or carried by numerous bellhops- none of them human, Vulcor noted a bit resignedly, despite the fact that nearly every single being who appeared to be a guest of the hotel was human.

Across the several dozen floors of the Nebula Hotel, speeder hangars were located every ten or so stories. Vehicles moved in and out regularly on every level, rising or descending into the streams of traffic that drifted overhead, mirroring the patterns of pedestrians dozens of meters below.

Carrying only light travel bags slung over their shoulders, they waved off the attendants as they entered the lobby- and quickly found that the outside of the hotel was nothing compared to the inside. The lobby was an atrium, easily rising thirty meters before the more traditional floor plans took over, probably at the first level with a speeder hangar, Vulcor thought. Consequently, for some ten stories, he could see guests walking along railed corridors that overlooked the lobby below to his right, left, and straight across. When he turned and glanced back at the front façade of the building- a normal duracrete wall, from the outside- he saw that on the inside, a thirty-meter display was designed to look like a viewport; only, rather than looking at the speeder traffic outside, they were watching a waterfall crash into a lake on some exotic-looking world.

Unfortunately, in Vulcor's experience, such worlds did not tend to be the sorts of places where Jedi were sent on missions.

"I'll take care of this," Leyla muttered, interrupting his observations of the artistic décor interspersed throughout the lobby. Pulling the authorization coded identichip from the pocket of her flightsuit- looking out of place amid the well-dressed and refined personages around them, though few of them paid the young woman any mind- she ducked past a crowd of veiled women and men in formal turbans to reach the attendant counter.

Trusting her to take care of the arrangements, Vulcor continued his thorough investigation of what little of the building was currently visible to him. Directly across the lobby from the entrance was a formal restaurant with a name that he wasn't even going to hazard a guess as to how to pronounce. On the far wall from the counter where Leyla was conversing in low tones with a woman who seemed to be the only human employee of the place- predictably, the one whom patrons had to actually deal with- there was a more casual-seeming tapcaf.

In every corner of the lobby there stood a turbolift, and there seemed to constantly be at least one emptying people onto the ground level, or admitting people to take them up. What truly made the atrium impressive though was the spiraling stairway that towered over them like a cathedral spire. Right in the center of the lobby, it reached up through all ten visible stories, walkways extending out to reach the rail-lined corridors where the suite entrances were.

As he took in the impressive sight of the crystalline structure, it occurred to Vulcor that this was not a place where they would ever have found themselves under normal circumstances. Such as it was, they were merely accepting the offer to use a paid for and reserved suite that normally was enjoyed by someone with more money than they possibly knew what to do with.

Well- that had, at least, _been_ his situation; now he was an enemy of, not just the Alliance of Ancient Houses of the Senex Sector, but of his own personal family as well.

It had been a busy twenty-four hours indeed.

X-X-X-X

"Tenth floor," Leyla reappeared with an access chip, raising her eyes towards the ceiling. "Top of the atrium."

They wordlessly agreed to take the stairs; they had no cumbersome bags, and it provided a better idea of building security- as well as the ideal means in which to get out, should they find themselves in such a situation where speed was of the essence. Not that they anticipated such a dramatic conclusion to their stay at the Nebula Hotel- but one never knew.

Somewhere around three-hundred dizzying steps later- a ten-story climb with the waterfall façade coming into view around every fourth turn- they emerged onto the uppermost level of the section of the hotel that opened out onto the atrium. Though he assumed that the most expensive and impressive apartments were at the very top penthouse levels, Vulcor suspected that it was actually these ten stories that comprised the majority of the luxury suites.

That suspicion was fairly well confirmed when they reached the indicated suite, which was centered on the side opposite the front façade of the building, thereby affording it the best view of the imitation waterfall window. Long transparisteel windows extended for several meters in each direction from the door, opaque from the outside, with silver shimmersilk curtains fluttering in the light currents of air flowing through the building.

Apparently oblivious to the impressive luxury, Leyla stalked to the door and swiped the access chip before inputting a numeric code on the keypad; the light went from red to green, and the door slid smoothly open. She preceded him into the suite, and then finally seemed to register the opulence surrounding them when she tossed her travel case onto a table of a deep, rich wood. Her brows shot up as she took in the artwork on the walls- largely of Twi'lek and Mon Calamari origins, in a place that was as humanocentric as it got- the plush furniture, expensive servi-units for food and beverages…

"Ta'yen certainly knows how to use his money," Vulcor commented quietly.

She shot him a look. "He's a good man."

"I didn't say he wasn't," he murmured, but dropped it at that.

Partially out of the need for a full security sweep, partially out of sheer curiosity, they went through the front room and found a bedroom that was nearly as big. A huge four-poster canopied bed sat in the middle of the room, covered in a duvet of deep burgundy with silver trim; silver curtains to match those outside the room hung from the posts, tied at the middle but seemingly designed to be able to released and curtain off the bed from the outside world.

Vulcor cocked a brow. "So what exactly does he use this place for?"

"He didn't say," Leyla answered delicately.

They went through to a balcony that was larger than either of their rooms at the Jedi temple- or both combined, he suspected. A small dining table of some rust-resistant metal sat by the railing, so one could enjoy the view over the city as they ate, or simply use it for relaxation purposes. On the far side of the balcony was a private speeder berth- complete with a jet-black covered speeder that seemed to be in pristine condition.

"Convenient," she remarked disinterestedly, turning and heading back inside to investigate the last of the rooms- the refresher.

Like everything else, it turned out to be the most luxuriously furnished refresher he had ever seen, complete with a separate alcove- also with curtains to close it away from sight- that held a whirlpool styled bathing tub. Ceramic tiles on the floor were connected to a control unit on the wall that allowed them to be heated as desired, and a separate sonic-shower stood available for one needing to make more efficient use of time and resources.

As they reemerged into the suite proper, Vulcor glanced down at the subdued girl. "It certainly has the makings for a relaxing getaway."

"If only."

He bit back a sigh. "What's the local time?"

"Just before noon." Her expression was unreadable as she thought. "In an hour or so, I'll go see about getting some replacement fuel cells. I need to eat something first." She glanced back out towards the front room, perhaps weighing the choice between something from the hotel servi-unit or her fighter rations. "What do you think is more unobtrusive here: black flightsuit with no obvious affiliation, or very obviously Jedi robes?"

He smiled wryly. "Flightsuit; I can't imagine they have any great love for the Jedi here." She shrugged. "Too bad you didn't bring one of those outfits you wore for Ta'yen," he murmured.

Leyla stiffened almost imperceptibly, but he could feel her bristling in the Force. He vaguely considered apologizing, but he hadn't intended the remark as caustic and couldn't blame himself if she took it as such, especially in her current mood.

"I'll eat later," she muttered, making for the door quickly and without looking at him. "My comm is open if anything comes up."

X-X-X-X


	17. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_Eriadu_

When she returned two hours later, Vulcor was sitting in an overstuffed armchair that was big enough to fit two of him and still be comfortable. He was drinking a bribb juice and, as he brought the glass to his lips, his dark eyes peered at her inquisitively over the rim.

"That wasn't as difficult as I'd feared," she informed him in a mildly stilted tone. "We'll have to switch out the cells when we get back to Ossus, they didn't have the recommended Tibanna purity for the Stealths, but… it'll suffice. The cells are in my cargo compartment, we can install them before we leave tomorrow."

Vulcor nodded but made no further reaction as she finally moved from the doorway and deposited her utility belt on the table. He watched her as he again raised the cup to his lips…

"I wasn't sleeping with him, you know."

For the next several seconds, he was coughing and spluttering and trying to clear his throat from the bribb juice on which he had just nearly choked. A smirk laden with dark amusement threatened the corners of her mouth as he set the glass back on the table, and he knew her comment had been timed to see if she'd get just such a reaction from him.

Letting his annoyance show on his face, he swiped at a spot where juice had dripped onto his robes, sighing in resignation. "Your point?"

She shrugged and went to the servi-unit, scanning through the impressive selection and attempting to seem nonchalantly casual. "It's been bothering you for hours."

"Why should it?" he demanded. She didn't answer as she programmed a selection and waited impatiently for the synthesizer to process the food, drumming her fingers idly on the counter. Biting back a curse and running a hand through his messy, sandy-brown hair, he stood and stared her down. "You let yourself become too emotionally involved."

"Oh?" she replied softly, dangerously.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You had a mission- a fairly simple one, at that. Rather than report back what you'd learned, with future recommendations for dealing with the matter, you took up your own agenda based on your confidence in a near-stranger's honor and got yourself involved in a situation that left you vulnerable and impossible to contact, with little opportunity of your own to get word out if something went wrong."

"I was never in any danger," she countered hotly, ignoring the proffered plate of ribenes from the servi-unit, "and my own 'agenda' was a logical continuation of the fact-finding. The resources were there, and I took initiative. Besides- progress _has_ been made."

"Yet you still mope around like it was an utter failure! You let yourself grow attached, not just to the idea of success in your mission, but to the wellbeing of Ta'yen as well!" She opened her mouth furiously, but he cut her off. "It doesn't matter if you were involved personally- you had no business inserting yourself in the affairs of the Viholn family like that."

Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she seemed to seethe over the reprimand from the older Jedi; but she calmed herself, schooled her expression, and spoke in a bitterly even tone. "And what about how emotionally involved you let yourself become?" He stared at her uncomprehendingly. "Or was it your assigned task to risk, not only your own discovery, but the complete nullification of the cover Ta'yen and I created for me as well?"

His eyes hardened. "My 'assigned task' was to locate you and bring you back to Alliance space, as you well-know."

"Yet you didn't once reach out to me in the Force when you'd located me _hours_ before you turned up at the palace and forced your way into my room in the middle of the night!"

That gave him pause. "Then you _did_ realize I was there, that afternoon…?"

She huffed. "What do you take me for? I'd have been a poor excuse for a bodyguard indeed had I not noticed the presence of the only other Jedi for light years…" She tilted her head and observed him through narrowed eyes. "So why then?" He remained impassively silent. "Is it perhaps- how did you once phrase it?- I'll always be that 'defiant seven-year-old' you first knew?" She smiled a bit sadly. "Vulcor, I'm a Jedi Knight; I'm _twenty_. I'm not that little girl anymore."

"Believe me," he snapped, "I've been full-well aware of that for a few years now."

Leyla blinked, taken aback. "A few years…? What are you on about?"

He scowled. "Nothing; forget I said that."

"No. What did you…? Is- is this about what happened on _Corellia_?"

"Drop it."

Her posture mirrored his as she leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms, plate of ribenes long forgotten. "A lot of what happened then still haunts me," she murmured. "And… part of me will never get over what I did, when I killed him…" she shuddered. "But I really don't understand what that has to do with anything; and I've always been undyingly grateful to you for finding me…"

She trailed away, frowning at his determinedly schooled face- and then she started, standing up straighter as she uncrossed her arms, staring at him incredulously. "You must be joking- this has nothing to do with Croyel, does it? You- you're referring to _Deren_, aren't you?"

Vulcor's scowl deepened, but he had the good sense not to deny it. "I don't remember his name," he replied delicately.

"We were kids!" she protested hotly. "We were _friends_. Why are you acting like my father?"

His eyes flickered. "That wasn't my intent," he bit.

For a long moment, she stared into his eyes with an expression that was equal parts confused, curious, startled, and annoyed- and then with a huff of frustration, she snagged the food off the counter and stalked towards the bedroom. "I'll be on the balcony," she muttered, and disappeared.

X-X-X-X

When Leyla hadn't returned after an hour, Vulcor decided to go out to her. She was leaning against the railing, peering out over the tops of smaller buildings at a wide and flowing river a kilometer away, speeder traffic floating by over her head, though not nearly so much of it on this side of the building as on the main drag in the front.

He mimicked her posture a meter down the railing, not looking at her and waiting for her to speak first- or to turn around and go back inside. Though silent, he conveyed a sense of regret over allowing himself to become so riled earlier, though he could not tell if she really took it in the spirit intended. Leyla had always been unnaturally adept at closing her own emotions off in the Force.

After a few minutes, she finally spoke, so quietly that he almost had to use the Force to catch her words.

"He was in love." He shot her a sharp look. "Ta'yen."

"With you?"

Her answering laugh was honest and delighted, and served to ease some of the tension between them- for the moment, anyway. "Of course not, don't be absurd." Smiling, she turned and looked at him for a moment before continuing to stare out over the city. "Some ten years ago or more, from what I understood- he was young, he'd lived his entire life in obscene luxury, with enough money to buy anything he could ever dream of; anything but her."

"Who was she?"

Leyla shrugged. "They met by chance; she was the daughter of a merchant, or an artisan maybe. The idea of such a union was forbidden by the rulers of the Viholn family- by his father. When he refused to let her go, she disappeared." She drew a deep, calming breath, and then turned to eye him hardly. "And the irony of it? Had she been born into the lower caste of the servants instead, they could have been together. Perhaps not ideally so, they could never have married, children would never have been legally recognized- but they could have been together."

"You mean he could have bought her," Vulcor corrected with a trace of reprimand in his voice. "Slavery by another name…"

"It's why he hates the system," she cut him off harshly. "He was little more than a boy, with all the money he could dream of- but in that moment, he realized that none of them were truly free, they were _all_ imprisoned by an ancient and outdated social structure."

He mulled that over and tried to decide if it made much of a difference.

"It _is_ more than just protectiveness, isn't it?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and fought the urge to play ignorant, pretend he misunderstood… the urge to turn around and walk back into the suite. He owed her more than that, after the way he'd behaved an hour ago. "Perhaps."

"Vulcor…"

"I can't answer that question, Leyla; not yet. You might not be that little girl anymore, but you still need to finish growing up."

Smiling sadly at the mildly hurt expression in her wide eyes, he crossed the distance between them and reached out a hand to brush her long dark hair over her shoulder before cupping her face gently. "And when you do," he murmured, leaning down and brushing his lips softly over hers, "I'll be waiting for you."

After a moment in which she stared up at him, stricken and confused, something in her eyes flickered and she jerked violently away from his hand, spinning back to lean against the railing, breathing heavily and exuding frustration in her stance and in the Force. "Even in romance, you're patronizing," she muttered bitterly.

"I'm not trying to be," he said quietly. She was silent and fuming and he ran a hand through his hair anxiously. "Kriff it, Leyla- you're so young, I've known you from a child. How do you think _I_ feel?"

She whirled on him. "About what? Are you _ashamed_ that you've thought about me as more than a friend, a student? As more than the little girl whose kidnapping completely destroyed everything you'd ever known since your own childhood?"

"I'm not ashamed," he protested softly. "You're purposefully misunderstanding me and you know it." She scowled and turned away once more. "You've been a full Jedi barely two years and you're still working your way through all the stresses there entailed; we've shared a close friendship from the time you were seven; I've saved your life and, in a way, you've saved mine. It was _you_ who made me turn my back on Wrynn, a decision that gave me a new chance at life when your father returned to finish things with him.

"But, Leyla," he hesitantly touched a hand to her shoulder, "I'll not jeopardize thirteen years of friendship until you're in a position to know what you want. And… I'm sorry, but… I just don't think that you're there yet."

Her smile was grim and a bit mocking. "So it has nothing to do with the fact that you're twelve years my senior?"

"Only in that I've had twelve more years to grow and mature; to master my emotions, to separate duties from desires." He hesitated. "And… I would think the experience of your own parents would show the merit to be found in not… rushing matters."

When she didn't respond after a minute, Vulcor sighed resignedly, squeezed her shoulder briefly, and then retreated back into the suite. She heard the sliding transparisteel door close behind him, exhaled heavily, and half-turned to mutter in the direction of the door.

"Maybe you'll be waiting, but I've been waiting longer."

X-X-X-X


	18. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

_Near Eriadu_

It was still dark in Phelar as Vulcor and Leyla rose through a cloudy sky early the next morning. Few words had been spoken between them since their conversation on the balcony of the suite the afternoon prior; and with travel time and time difference between Phelar and Korezhia, they had both been up for over twenty-four standard hours by the time Leyla surrendered herself to sleep in the early evening, curling up in one corner of a bed that was about four times the size of one of the standard cot-type beds in the Jedi temple.

When she woke early the following morning, Vulcor was already up, and she was honestly unsure of whether he'd slept in the first place. Thinking about it briefly, she suspected that he hadn't, if for no other reason than his lingering paranoia over Eriadu in general, not wanting to be caught off his guard. They had a long jump to Coruscant though, about eighteen hours- though even that was preferable to the original plan of Ossus, which would take closer to thirty and, in either case, Leyla was glad for the convenience of having her whole family in one place for a change. Kyp and Gennevi's wedding had been the first time that had happened since she was knighted.

Coordinates were run and checked between their astromechs; a brief touch in the Force verified that they were both ready to make the simultaneous jump. The seconds counted down as the navicomputers made the final calculations, and then she pulled back the hyperspace levers, sighed as she watched the stars streak into lines before the canopy tinting went dark, shielding her eyes from the hypnotic sight. Settling herself back in the seat, she thought heavily about the unpleasant news Vulcor had shared with her regarding the unknown but utterly fatal plague that had struck a bothan colony world the week prior.

And poor Ferrin Belotab- her family had something of an unfortunate history with him, going back to when she had been taken by Moff Croyel and Lord Wrynn when she was just seven years old. Really, that was the fault of his wife who had been a key contact member of Red Hand… but still.

With a sigh, she resigned herself to a semi-conscious, Force-induced trance, though she was well-rested. As she closed her eyes though, her mind insisted on being uncooperative and she found herself reflecting all-too-keenly on the horribly uncomfortable encounter with Vulcor yesterday. She cringed and forcibly beat the recollections back, unwilling to continue indulging in silly girlish notions- since that was all anyone seemed to expect of her at the moment.

At last, she calmed herself and her eyelids fluttered as she drifted deeper and further… and then it was like she was half-dreaming, half-conscious as vague images and thoughts floated into her mind and then left just as quickly and with little concern or caring on her part…

And then with a sickening jolt and corresponding racing of her heart, she found herself forced awake with a shriek from Fate and a simultaneous flood of surprise and alarm from Vulcor.

Her first ridiculous thought was the surprise that the flight had passed so quickly, even in a trance. And then she looked at her control board chrono, mind still foggy, and realized that barely an hour had passed since they entered hyperspace. After that, her brain started to focus a little faster, at least enough for her to note, with a sinking sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, that a smooth-lined interdictor cruiser sat jauntily in the middle of her viewport.

Snapping herself out of the shock, she threw the StealthX into an arcing curve, simultaneously setting her comm for the lowest possible wave frequency, ignoring dozens of standard protocols. "If we spread out far enough, they can only keep one of us trapped in the gravity well projector cone," she said tersely.

Vulcor was a moment in responding, but quickly seemed to recognize that comm silence would do them little good, seeing as how someone seemed to already know there were there. "Those aren't the odds I was looking for," he said sharply.

"They're actually quite good in your favor, if they pick up our comm signals and determine which of us is in which ship," she informed him calmly. "Fate," she addressed the droid, "see if you can get a reading on the projection cone, and then calculate the lowest detectable comm wave frequency that will-"

"Damn it, Leyla!"

She ignored him, waiting for the answering whistles from her droid. After several seconds of silence, she frowned and glanced at the screen that usually scrolled Fate's translations. It was blank. "Fate?" Nothing. "Ar-Nine-Eff-Eight," she said sternly, "reboot." He was still quiet. "I think Fate's short-circuited or something," she frowned. "Guess we're back to fifty-fifty odds."

"Don't even think for one minute that-"

A whistle interrupted Vulcor, and Leyla glanced with relief at her screen- to see that Fate was recommending that she come around one hundred twenty degrees to starboard. "Fate, that will aim me straight back at the cruiser we're trying to get away from," she explained patiently. "Now please make yourself useful and… Fate!"

"What?" Vulcor asked.

"My controls locked up, he's put me on autopilot…" she swore. "Fate, I promise you, if you don't knock it off, I will take you apart for scrap and melt the leftover pieces into table ornaments…" he gave a warbling reply and she laughed in a strangled sort of way. "Great, he's apologizing- _manufacturer's override_?" she demanded. "You can't do that!"

By this point, she'd lost all ground that had been made in escaping the gravity well that was holding them in deep space a few dozen light years away from Eriadu. "Vulcor, seriously- go. Vulcor?"

The pause lasted another ten seconds, during which her heart almost stopped beating, despite the fact that she could feel him, alive and well, through the Force. "Your droid has overridden and slaved my system," he informed her stiltedly. "I'm trying to do a manual cold shutdown." Leyla smacked at the control stick, more for frustration's sake than out of expectation of a real result.

"Aunt Mara and Uncle Luke have some _serious _explaining to do," she muttered under her breath. In two years, she'd not once had a problem with Fate, not even a programming glitch. "Vulcor?"

Another ten second silence before he answered. "They've got us." She swallowed. "Without even a shot fired or a tractor beam."

"Vulcor, I'm sor-"

"Don't," he told her harshly. "This isn't over yet."

She smiled bitterly. If nothing else, it seemed that she was about to get answers that had eluded her father and grandfather regarding just what had happened to her uncle Cem.

X-X-X-X

_Coruscant_

Soontir Fel held the gazes of Luke and Mara Skywalker for several seconds each before he nodded and accepted the seat they offered in the small but cozy sitting area of their rooms in the temple. Luke's intention of offering refreshment to his one-time co-Rogue was forgotten as he read the heavy consternation in the other's aura, the stiffness in his posture, the tension in his face.

"What can we do for you, Soontir?" Mara asked steadily.

"Nirauan," he said shortly. Luke and Mara exchanged a brief look of surprise. "I want to know what happened there, in the fortress."

Mara hesitated. "I'm not sure…"

"The cavern beneath the fortress," Soontir elaborated shortly. The two Masters were silent, and he sighed and sat back. "Very well- I was there. Before we returned to Ossus, I traveled to Nirauan, by myself. The place is quite a shambles- but someone has been there since we abandoned it. Possibly even Cem."

"Why did you go?"

He held up a hand and continued. "The lake on the southern side has dried up, and with it, a cavern was revealed of which I had no prior knowledge. After the water damage to the outer wall uncovered it, we assumed it was a natural cave system, like the many you two seemed to discover while infiltrating the fortress in the first place. With the lake dried up, it is now quite clear that it was constructed to be concealed, to blend in to the natural topography- up to the point of folly, leaving it at the mercy of the outer edge of the structure."

He sized them up carefully. "But you did not depart the planet after destroying my hangar," he said mildly. "Your craft did not take off for several hours. You found that cavern. _You_ brought the wall down and flooded it. Why?"

"Survival," Mara supplied unhelpfully.

"You flooded the cavern complex you were _in_ for survival?"

"Thrawn had his secrets; even from you, Soontir."

His dark eyes flickered at Mara's words, but his expression remained calm and even. "Luke… Mara… what did you find in the lower fortress?"

X-X-X-X

_Dawn's Folly_

There were two blue-skinned chiss waiting for her as she dropped lightly from her fighter down to the duracrete deck of the hangar. Given the circumstances, she found that rather strange, but nothing about the whole situation made any sense and, as they made no move to threaten her, nor to take her lightsaber, she made no effort to fight them, knowing well enough that the hangar was not as lightly defended as it seemed.

She could sense Vulcor landing several decks up and vaguely ascertained that he found himself in a comparable situation. With a brief touch to his mind, she attempted to convey a general sense of her wellbeing, before the two chiss stepped up to her. Both kept their weapons holstered and hands held palm-outwards, in a sign of peace.

"Follow," the first commanded, and she raised a brow skeptically, but jerked her head in a rough acceptance. And still, neither moved to disarm or search her.

They took a winding route down several corridors, rose a number of levels in two separate turbolifts, passing a handful of black-clad chiss who stepped aside for them to pass but otherwise walked in even, clicking footsteps with the stiff and upright posture inherited by her stepfather from his own time spent in the military of this people.

Expecting to be taken to some form of holding cell, though not particularly sure just how they might have intended to keep her there, it therefore surprised her greatly when a third turbolift opened directly onto the bridge of the interdictor cruiser.

A total silence fell briefly on the bridge, before the crew went back to work with their usual efficiency and professional disinterest. Two exceptions to this rule immediately stood out to Leyla- the figure in the command chair whirled around and peered intently at her, and an elderly chiss, with a slow gait and grey hairs, approached carefully and lifted a hand; the two guards stepped away from her side and retreated elsewhere.

Leyla noted the green band on the upper arm of the uniform of the figure before her; she also took in the symbols designating position, or rank on a military uniform. "Where is my wingmate, Syndic… Csun'abr'inrokini?" she guessed quietly.

Red eyes widened marginally, the only betrayal of his surprise, but the figure in the command chair stood swiftly, eyeing her curiously as he came closer. Leyla simply raised her brows in the ensuing silence. "Whatever qualms you have, you have with me alone; my wingmate is of no concern to you."

The second chiss, much younger, spoke in smooth and cultured tones. "You needn't fear for Jedi Vulcor; nor for yourself, Jedi Solo-Fel. And… our sincere apologies for the abrupt nature of your invitation aboard."

"You pulled us out of hyperspace, sliced into my astromech's control system, and slaved my wingmate's craft," she deadpanned. "I must have overlooked the invitation, in light of those circumstances."The chiss actually smiled, his eyes flickering in unmistakable amusement. "Very well then- perhaps you would be willing to at least tell me whether my uncle is still alive?"

The elderly syndic turned to his companion with an expression that might have been anger or exasperation on his face. "You said-"

"I know what I said, Nabrin," he murmured, though his eyes never left Leyla's. "You will have the opportunity to verify your uncle's wellbeing soon enough, I daresay."

Her gut twisted- where were they being taken? _Would_ they be able to hold her and Vulcor? Maybe, if they had acquired ysalamiri…

The syndic's comlink beeped and he spoke softly into it. Clipped tones responded.

"_Lateeku il-Crahsystor; hapf-k-sa fasch-u." _

He clicked a reply and clipped the comlink back to his belt. Turning to the younger chiss by his side, he opened his mouth, but Leyla beat him to it.

"Who is the 'Commander'?" she asked evenly. "And what have you done to anger him?"

That time, the younger figure laughed aloud. "And you understand Cheunh?" he exclaimed, before sighing slightly. "Oh, that the Ascendancy ever shunned you, child…" Heavy footsteps interrupted him, and the bridge crew snapped to their feet almost as one. Leyla wanted to turn, but found herself frozen to the spot by the glowing red eyes which continued to burn into hers until the chiss finally broke the stare and looked over her head. "Captain," he called pleasantly, "we've been expecting-"

"You've gone too far," a hard voice rang out- a hard, human voice that was familiar, but horrifyingly so in this context. "You should have woken me the _instant_ their vessels emerged from hyperspace." A strong hand gripped her arm firmly, but not tightly, and she forced herself to turn and look up into the angered face; angry, but laced with concern as his hazel eyes peered down on her.

Cem's hazel eyes.

X-X-X-X

_Coruscant_

Admiral Cha Niathal- newly instated Supreme Commander of the Galactic Alliance Defense Force- departed the meeting between the assorted commanders and advisors of the various branches of the GA military and the members of the Senate's Naval Oversight Committee. It was the sixth such meeting she'd been to in the past two days between matters of personnel reassignment, funding issues, craft decommissions… not to mention the formal promotion ceremony of the day before in which she had been officially handed a job once held by such great military minds as Gilad Pellaeon and Admiral Ackbar.

It was certainly a lot to live up to, the greatness for which she would have to strive to compare.

"Admiral Niathal?" she turned, bulbous eyes rolling up slightly to meet the eyes of the tall Ithorian. She recognized him from the meeting as the newest senator assigned to the NOC. "Ryoqim," he spared her the embarrassment of having to ask for his name again as he extended a long-fingered hand to shake her flipper-like one. "I wonder if you'd be willing to spare a moment for me?"

Her gravelly voice reflected her surprise. "Certainly, Senator."

"My office is just around the next turn," he offered, and she gestured him to lead the way.

A few beings- mostly staff, it was a bit late in the day in the Senate District for most of the actual senators to still be at work- crossed their path in the corridors, though most stepped respectfully aside upon seeing her bright white admiral's uniform. The suite occupied by the Ithorian delegation was darkened and empty when they arrived, though light shone from around a corner, suggesting someone was still working late.

Ryoqim led her into his private office, speaking pleasantly as they walked. "I'm quite a fan of yours, Admiral Niathal," he confessed in his low, rumbling voice. "I was there when the former Supreme Commander Bwua'tu recommended Admiral Darklighter for the job, but I was most relieved when they chose you for it instead."

Her large eyes flickered bemusedly, the nictitating membrane twitching over them a couple of times. "I think you do Admiral Darklighter a disservice in your opinion," she said frankly. "He is a commendable leader."

"Oh," the ithorian clasped his hands together on the desk as he sat down, gesturing her into the chair opposite, "I quite agree. An admirable officer."

"Then why are you so against him advancing to the role of Supreme Commander?"

The senator leaned forward slightly and spoke quietly, his eyes locked determinedly on her. "Because, Admiral- it saves me the rather tedious and time-consuming task of finding a way to have him killed."

She stared, caught between confusion and disbelief, waiting for him to deliver the punch line to a tasteless joke; it never came. She swallowed hard. "He was in that meeting as well," she managed, "you could have gotten to Gavin just as easily as you've lured me."

"Ah," strong hands closed on her wrists, pinning her hands to the desk so she could not access a comlink, a weapon of any sort… "I do not want you dead, Admiral. Quite the contrary. You are going to be a great help to me."

Her eyes darted about the room. "And if I'm not?"

"Then the blood of the billions who die on Falleen, on Rodia… on Sullust, Bothawui… and yes, on Dac… that blood will be on _your_ hands, Admiral. All it will take is the push of a button."

X-X-X-X

_Dawn's Folly_

"Cem?" she whispered, stunned and confused as the crew went about their work. Her uncle had disappeared over two months prior and not been heard from once since. And to find him here, on a Chiss cruiser… _captain _of the Chiss cruiser holding the syndic who had imprisoned her father and grandfather, Cem's brother and father. "What…?"

"Why did you not wake me?" he demanded of the syndic.

The younger of the two spoke up evenly. "Call it an experiment of sorts."

"A successful one?" Cem snarled.

Purple lips quirked. "Oh, yes." But he did not elaborate, and Leyla was left staring between them in utter confusion, wondering whether she was going to simply wake up soon and have this absurdity be done with.

"Well if you call success having Kyp Durron come looking for you with a one-track mind towards vengeance, then you're probably quite close indeed." He sucked in a deep breath and forcibly calmed himself. "I need to speak with my niece, alone. Her Jedi companion is being brought down; when he arrives, I would like the opportunity to explain the situation _before_ you continue playing pointless mind games."

The syndic inclined his head, and the other took a single step back and waved a hand. "By all means, Captain Fel- take your time."

The grip on Leyla's arm tightened, and she was wordlessly steered around and led back towards the turbolift, though they veered off and entered a small conference room just off the bridge. "Sit," Cem directed her to the nearest seat, and came around to sit facing her, running a hand anxiously across his brow.

"Cem…?"

"Your wingmate," he interrupted her shortly. "Do you trust him."

"Cem…"

"Answer the question, Leyla."

Biting back a retort, she forced a stilted nod. "I do."

"With your life?"

"I have in the past and I would again."

Cem considered her a moment. "How long have you known him?"

"Nearly thirteen years."

"And will he keep a confidence?"

She stared, and he looked steadily back at her until she sighed. "Vulcor is… very by-the-book. But… yes, he'd keep something to himself if _I _asked it of him." Cem looked mildly curious at that, but seemed to relax in his seat and accept her assertion without further question or comment. "Now, Cem- _what is going on_?" Leyla asked in a voice of forced and deadly calm.

"Wait a moment," Cem sighed, "it'll be hard enough doing this once."

"But-"

The door slid open again and Vulcor was admitted, looking tense and highly irritated, but a measure of relief came across his face when he saw her sitting there, safe and sound. His eyes slid over her uncle, but he did not seem to recognize the older man.

"Vulcor," Leyla muttered, "this is Cem- my uncle."

If possible, Vulcor's look darkened. "Cem Fel," he murmured, "your family has been most distraught by your disappearance."

"They will understand its necessity in due course," Cem answered smoothly.

"And will they understand the kidnapping of your own niece as well?" Vulcor bit.

Cem closed his eyes and sank back in his chair exhaustedly. "No one is being kidnapped, Jedi Vulcor. Even if they had a mind to, I suspect they're well-aware of the fact that holding either or both of you would be impossible."

"Then why are we here?"

A lengthy silence followed, and they could see the muscles in Cem's face tensing as he tried to figure out how to begin, or how much to divulge, perhaps. Before he could organize his thoughts though, Leyla finally figured out what was wrong with the uniform Cem was wearing- what was wrong with _all_ of the Chiss uniforms.

"Cem," she said slowly, "the seal on your uniform- that isn't the emblem of the Ascendancy."

"No," he acknowledged heavily. "This force does not represent the interests of the Ascendancy, nor operate with their knowledge or consent."

Leyla stared. "My god," she breathed, "you… you've reinstated the Empire of the Hand, haven't you?"

He barked a laugh. "What, in two months? No, the project has long been underway, though I have been generally aware of its developments for the past five years."

"Cem," she leaned forward and met his eyes carefully, "what is going on, and who are those two in charge who met me on the bridge?"

He pursed his lips.

"What do you know of Alpha Red?"

**End Part I**

X-X-X-X

_It was like waking from the longest sleep… the longest sleep, filled with decades' worth of dreams- but those dreams weren't dreams at all, they were… memories._

_Memories…_

_Whose memories? _

_There was a sensation, like he'd forgotten something vitally important. Something he'd done? Something he was supposed to do? _

_Something he was? _

"_Thrawn." _

_Red eyes flew open._

X-X-X-X

…**to be continued… **


End file.
